Stay With Me
by Mizzswan
Summary: Set three years after Back To You, please read that before reading this.
1. Chapter 1

_-Present-_

Catherine has decided, out of blue, that she was tired of renting venues for her yearly charity events and she wants to build one. She wants to build a permanent spot for her events to be held. She put Mary in charge of it. It's going _fine._

The building is nearly finished, months into the process and Mary is happy the late, late nights can come to an end at last.

She sighs as she watches Louis take some measurements and then he's headed her way. Yes, Louis Conde, Mary dated him briefly after Francis went to Paris and he left her. A little piece of information she forgot to tell Francis about and it really didn't go over well when he found out she had to work with Louis.

She twists her ring under the table.

"It'll be done and ready in another few weeks." He says as he sets his bag on the table, causing drywall dust to fly up between them and Mary waves it away from her face.  
"Good," She says softly, "Because the banquet is in three months."

"Are you sure Catherine should be doing this?"

"Pardon?"

"It's...a pretty expensive project."

"The expense is none of your concern and it isn't my job to question Catherine's decisions." She says as she reaches for her phone. He doesn't say anything just nods, she hears the soft click of a container opening and closing and then nearly falls out of her chair when he reaches for her.

"What are yo-"  
"There's drywall dust on your shirt." He says with a smirk and she realizes he's holding a wet wipe in his hand for her and she takes it. He watches her wipe it away and toss it in the bin by the table and then she's grabbing her things to get ready to leave.

"All clean now." Louis smiles and Mary simply narrows her eyes at him. She doesn't say anything to him, she just sighs. He's trying to be nice, civil, a decent human being. She wishes he'd stop, wishes he'd go away. She wishes he wasn't here. She really wishes she wasn't here _with_ him but since she's the one overseeing this process, she has to be.

"Mary, this doesn't have to be weird."

"Louis if you have something to say to me, I hope it has to do with work, if it doesn't I ask that you please don't say it." She says as she grabs her purse and her notes. She twists her ring, an action she's gotten used to doing around him. An action she's sure he sees because she's tired of having to verbalize that she's taken to someone who _really doesn't care_ if she is.

"Mary-"  
"No." She says quickly, she takes her leave after that. She has paperwork to do anyways and some last minute changes to go over with Catherine. She doesn't have time to discuss _what ifs_ with an ex who hardly qualifies as an ex.

 _-/-_

The first thing she does when she gets back to her office is check her phone, but there's nothing there. He doesn't text her if she's working, she knows that but she was hoping her screen would light up at some point. Even as she fills out papers and types out emails, her eyes keep going to her phone where it rests on the corner of her desk. It doesn't buzz or blink or ding with life.

Her eyes drift to the picture on her desk, it's recent, Anne and Francis sitting together. Her little girl, the little girl who bumped Mary down to number three on Francis' list of favorite people in the world. She's two now, just celebrating her birthday a few months ago. A little two-year-old with blonde bouncy curls and pretty blue eyes. She looks too much like Francis, it's not really fair how much she actually looks like him. She swears she sees none of herself in her own child. She wonders what she and Francis are doing right now.

She sighs as the hour's tick by and eventually she just calls him.

"Hey." His voice is soft and groggy and she kicks herself for not realizing what time it was.

"Hey, did I wake you?" She asks softly

"You did."

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize what time it was…"

"It's okay, I've been needing to talk to you anyways," Francis says softly, "Are you coming to Anne's open house?"

"When?"

"Wednesday, I told you-"  
"I know, I just...um." She's pulling out her date book, flipping to Wednesday, "The twenty-third?"

"Mhm." She goes quiet. "I take your silence as a no?"

"I have a meeting with...Munro."

"That's alright." She runs her hand through her hair, she knows that _'That's alright'_ really means, _'We're used to it.'_

"I'm sorry." She says softly, "I'm gonna reschedule."

"No, don't worry about it."

"I'm-"

"Mary, it's fine."

"Let me try."

"It's okay." He says slowly, calmly, but it doesn't feel okay, he never lets her know that. She wonders if one day it really will be too much and he'll blow up on her. There's only been one time he's actually done that. "You'll come next time."

"I'll come next time." She nods, "Okay…" He's quiet for a minute, probably not really sure what to say at this point.

"Mary, go home." He finally says and her stomach churns, not yet used to the change of phrase, no longer is it _'Come home,'_ now it's _'go home.'_

She doesn't like going home when he has Anne because then the house is empty and dark and quiet.

"Francis?"

"Hm?"

"I love you." She says softly.

"I know." He says, "I love you too." This is okay, this is good. They need time apart, just until they can be around each other and not fight. She can't help but think about before. This feels like Paris, but it isn't.  
It just feels like it. She hates it.

"Go home, Mary. Get some sleep."

"Okay…"

"I'll call you tomorrow."

* * *

 _-4 Years Ago-_

Louis is a decent kisser, she thinks, she doesn't have much to compare him to. She's only ever kissed Francis like this and Francis was _good._ Maybe that's her problem, being with Francis set the bar too high for any future lovers of hers. She wonders if he feels this way too. She wonders if he thinks about her when he's…

Probably not, the man has probably slept his way through Paris by now in some desperate attempt to rid himself of the scent of her.

Mary shifts, trying to get into it. She runs her fingers over the hard muscles of his back and feels the way they tense and move below the fabric of his shirt. She wills her body to relax, she tries to focus on the things Louis _does_ do and not on the things he _doesn't_.  
How he doesn't gently hold her like she'll break under him, doesn't kiss her cheeks, trailing his lips down her jaw to her neck, doesn't tug on her lip with his teeth, he doesn't move her hair out of the way with a soft swift of his fingers.

Instead, she focuses on the way his fingers clench in her hair like he's holding her in place, the way he grinds into her hips hard; and it might actually feel good if he were being more gentle.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when his hand reaches up her shirt to rest on her breast and she's silently thanking whatever god is out there that he had enough sense to keep his hand over the fabric of her bra. He doesn't notice if she's uncomfortable with it, that invasive little touch from a hand that does not belong to Francis.

She doesn't stop him, they've done _this_ before, they've been on a few dates and she likes him enough to maybe let him go a little further, but he knows about Francis and he knows what he was to her. He's trying to take this slow, as slow as Louis Conde knows how to go. This is snail's pace for him, two months in and he still hasn't had her. Kenna questions her some, but not much, it isn't her usual teasing. She joked about the three date rule, she asked if she was thinking about going all the way with Louis but Mary always dodged the question and Kenna drops it after. She knows. She knows that Mary isn't ready.  
Not that she's tried very hard to _get_ ready.

"Louis." She says softly when he finally releases his grip on her long enough for her to break the kiss and turn her head, "Can you...not so hard?" It's soft the way she says it and she takes note of the way his lips tilt up slightly at that.

"Better?" He asks, slowing down and she pulls him back down to her lips, where they meet in a hard collision. He wants her, he's impatient.  
His hair is short, and not at all like the thick blonde curls her fingers are used to running through. Maybe that's why this doesn't feel right, none of this feels right. She supposes it's something she'll have to get used to. Considering Francis is gone and never coming back, not to her anyway. Never again to her, she made sure of that when she broke him in the home they shared like he didn't matter to her, but he mattered enough to keep the ring and the hoody he left behind that still kind of smells like him.

The faintest scent of Francis tucked deep in a dresser drawer somewhere in her apartment.

She makes a soft sound of protest when his fingers find the button of her jeans, leaving her breast with a gentle squeeze. He ignores the noise she made, he probably thought it was a whisper of encouragement. His tugs her jeans down a little bit, only a little, just enough to leave room for his fingertips to dip below the waistband of underwear and she's louder now with her protest. That's too much.  
Her fingers close around his wrist before he can touch and she stops him.

"No." She says quickly and he stops, pushing himself off her and she scoots to the other end of the couch, ignoring the way he's looking at her and ignoring the way her stomach twists in guilt. She does this every time. Without fail.  
It's probably reaching double digits by now. It reminds her how Francis used to do the same thing when she'd try to touch him in the same gentle way he touched her. Like the day in her bedroom when Aylee died and he had to retrieve Mary from the roof and she was just desperate to touch him but he wouldn't let her.  
That's what this feels like. She knows how Louis feels.

"Why?" He asks softly and she can see that by now he _is_ frustrated, "Why won't you let me touch you, Mary?" She shrugs. He isn't Francis, but she can't tell him that. He already knows though, that would be her answer because he shakes his head and stands with a huff.

"Because of Francis." He says it less like a question and more like a fact. Like common knowledge, like the whole world knows except Francis.  
"Louis-"  
"I…" He sighs heavily, he's angry, she doesn't blame him. "I can't keep doing this."

"I-"

"It feels like I'm competing with a ghost." He isn't competing with him if he were he'd be losing. Louis has Mary, Francis is in Paris. But Francis still has Mary in more ways than Louis has had her. They have to break up. That's what's coming.

"I'm sorry." She says softly because she is. This isn't fair to him, she can tell he genuinely cares for her and she can't stop thinking about Francis long enough to care as much as he does.  
"What are we doing?" He asks, "Honestly. Tell me, am I just a means of distraction until Francis comes back?"

"He isn't coming back."

"Sure." He scoffs, "He isn't dead, Mary."

"I know."

"And he isn't _blind_." She doesn't know what to say to that so she stays quiet, "Mary, I...really like you. Maybe even…" Oh, _don't_ use the L word. He shakes his head, "You're an amazing woman and I have never wanted anyone more than I want you."

"I don't know what you want me...to say." She feels like she might cry, there's a bit of a lump forming in the back of her throat.

"I want you to want me back!" He snaps, anger boiling up to the surface and she jumps, she deserves this she knows it. She's been pretty much teasing this guy for months now. "But you won't because I'm not him." She's still quiet, "Mary, I've tried to be supportive and patient but I cannot keep competing with someone who _apparently_ isn't coming back."

"You're not competing with him, Louis. Francis is gone...you have me."

"I have you." He says, "Who were you thinking about five minutes ago? Me?"

"Louis."

"When I was touching you, who were you thinking about? Answer the damn question." She doesn't have to answer, he already knows so she just stares at her hands as she digs at her skin, standing up.

"I loved him, Louis…" She says softly, "I spent almost my entire childhood with him...I don't know what else to tell you."  
"It's been how long since he's left and you're still so…" He shakes his head, "If he came back right now, got on a plane right this minute and asked you to be with him, you would dump me faster than he can buy a ticket."  
"No-"  
"Don't try to _deny_ it, Mary, you know you would." She doesn't say anything. Though the scenario is unlikely, she'd dump him for Francis if he did, in fact, come back for her. He won't.

That's not the point.  
"I think you should leave." He says softly, "I think...I think it's time we stop kidding ourselves."

"Louis I-"

"Get out!" He shouts at her, "Just go. Okay? Leave." She scrambles for her things, grabbing her coat and her shoes and she's out of his apartment without another word.  
She stands in the hallway too long with her back against the door. Her visions slowly blurring as her eyes fill up with tears. Everything he said was right and he had every right to be angry. But that's not why she's crying, it's been a year and Francis still has this unrelenting hold on her. She can't be with anyone else because it's always going to come down to them not being him. It's not fair, as she said he's probably slept his way halfway through Paris and she can't even have a healthy relationship without wanting him.

Her tears spill down her cheeks and drip on her coat, warm and fast as she walks to her car.

* * *

 _-Present-_

She was right, the house is empty and dark and quiet when she twists the key in the lock and opens the door. She sighs as she tosses her keys on the table by the door and kicks off her shoes. It doesn't hurt as badly not seeing his shoes next to hers now, but she feels a little sting at it. It's been a long month, a month of separation that's slowly stretching into two.

Mary doesn't bother turning the lights on, just climbs the stairs to their room. It's funny this house holds so many memories. There's still a hole in the wall by their bedroom from when Bash and Francis were being young and stupid. There's a chip in one of the stairs from when Aylee tripped over her prom dress and nearly broke her arm. Kenna's name is still scratched in the side of the railing. This is the house she used to sit on the roof and have long deep discussions only teenagers could have with her friends. Where they all ended up after Aylee died, where Francis dragged her comforter off her bed and wrapped her in it when she refused to come inside.

The house she sold after Francis left for Paris because she couldn't bear to live in it without him. Her mother's house, where she raised herself, where she grew up almost entirely alone. They found out it was for sale again a few months in when they were looking for a new place. She didn't even have to ask Francis if they could get it, he was already putting down an offer.

It looks a little different now, the previous owners changed the old redwood flooring to a darker wood, the pale yellow walls were switched to a light grey with white trim. Yet, they left the tiny traces of Mary's life here alone, like they knew she'd come back one day.

She wonders if Henri's soccer ball still clings to the storm drain on the roof. She wonders if Margot's plastic barbie doll shoe is still holding onto the shingles.

If the walls could talk she wonders what they'd whisper about when they thought she wasn't listening.

Mary, changes in the dark and slides into bed, not yet used to the way the blankets fall differently on one body when there should be two in this bed. She plugs her phone in and sends a quick text to Francis.

 **Mary:** _"Can you tell Anne goodnight for me?"_ He replies in seconds and she wonders if he's having trouble sleeping again.

 **Francis:** _"Of course."_

She goes to sleep clutching the pillow that still has a faint scent of him.

* * *

A/N: So, here's the sequel to Back To You. Obviously, our favorite little couple is having some issues, Louis' back, Francis and Mary are separated at the moment. Stay tuned to see what got them here.


	2. Chapter 2

_-Present-_

Francis used to do this thing when she'd take a shower. He'd sneak in and write little notes in the fog on the mirror. Just simple things, _'I love you,' 'The neighbors think your singing is atrocious but I love it so don't stop,'_ sometimes he'd write things like, _'Don't bother getting dressed ;).'_ She hardly ever heard him come in. She has no idea where the hell he got it from. Though she suspects he picked it up from his time in Paris because he didn't do it before then.

She loves it no matter where it came from. They make her laugh. She tries to do it to him, and sometimes she's successful, a lot of times he catches her.

There isn't a note today, there hasn't been one for several weeks now. She should be used to not seeing them, but she feels her shoulders slump a little when she steps out and sees the untouched fog on her mirror.

Mary just wipes the fog away so she can see and brushes her teeth, her hair, and goes about getting ready for the day. It's not over, it's not like they're done. Once they get to a point they aren't arguing all the damn time, he'll come back.

He always comes back. She doesn't deserve him.

She was hoping when her phone vibrates on the coffee table that it's Francis, but it's just Kenna. She sent a picture of herself in a bikini lying on a beach covered in sand.

 **Lola:** _"Kennaaaaa you're hotttt."_

 **Kenna:** _"I know ;)"_

 **Mary:** _"Meanwhile I'm about to go scrape ten feet of snow off my car."_

 **Kenna:** _"Are you jealous?"_

 **Mary:** _"Very."_

 **Kenna:** _"Ask Your Francis to take you somewhere warm."_

 **Mary:** _"He'd take me straight to the heater."_

 **Lola:** _"He could take you to Paris."_

 **Mary:** _"He lived there? He's seen everything already, why would he want to go back?"_

 **Kenna:** _"Something about uninterrupted hours of sweaty sheet fun but ya know."_

 **Mary:** _"Sweaty sheet fun?"_

 **Greer:** _"I'm stealing that."_

 **Kenna:** _"GREER"_

 **Greer:** _"Hey."_

 **Kenna:** _"I'M ON A BEACH"_

 **Greer:** _"I see that."_

 **Kenna:** _"Bash won't take a picture with me but he's here too."_

 **Lola:** _"He took you on vacation with him and you still won't make it official?"_

 **Kenna:** _"He took me on vacation with him because Mary's lovely husband is inhabiting his couch."_

 **Greer:** _"Why would Bash take you on vacation with him if Francis is on his couch? That's a weird reason."_

 **Greer:** _"Oh."_

 **Greer:** _"OH"_

 **Greer:** _"Aha sweaty sheet fun."_

 **Kenna:** _"Greer, really? REALLY?"_

 **Kenna:** _"And I'm the dense one."_

 **Kenna:** _"Mary, darling you got quiet."_

 **Mary:** _"I'm getting ready for work."_

 **Mary:** _"I gotta go, have fun."_ She sets her phone down. She sighs, not sure she's ready to see Louis today. She wonders what he'll have to say to her, probably some harmless flirty joke that she doesn't care for. She grabs her keys and heads out the door.

 _-/-_

"You look nice today." Is the first thing Louis says to her when she walks in, she sets her things down with a huff, she narrows her eyes at him but doesn't say anything. "What was that look?" He asks with a smirk, "Oh, did Francis ban compliments too? Sorry. Must have missed the memo."

"Louis."

"Hm?" He raises an eyebrow.

"Aren't you supposed to be working?"

"I am."

"Doesn't look like it." She says and then jumps at the sudden pop of a paint can opening. "Oh." His eyes don't leave hers as he lifts the can.

"Spoke too soon, hm?"

"Shut up." She says as she opens her laptop. She gets a few minutes of peace before she looks up and notices they're painting the walls the _wrong_ color. "Stop!" She shouts as she stands and rounds the corner to Louis, who's giving her a confused look. "What color is this?"

"Ivory, like you said."

"No." She says, "I said pearl."

"Nooo...I'm pretty sure you said ivory."

"No." She says with a click of her teeth as she goes back to the table where her notes are, "We gave Catherine four color choices, she picked pearl. See?" She points at Catherine's neat handwriting, "Ivory isn't even an option, how did you-"

"Can I see that?" He asks, taking off his gloves and she hands it to him, he flips through her notes, reading carefully. "Huh, could have sworn you said ivory." He says looking around. Most of the walls are already painted, and it's going to take forever to repaint them.

"I know what I said and that wasn't it." She says carefully, "So fix it before Catherine finds out."

"Okay, but it'll take a few days, we gotta wait for this to dry first so it doesn't mix with the new paint. It might add another week or two." She scoffs, she can tell by his voice he didn't do this on accident. She grabs his arm and tugs him to another room, one with the door already on it so she can shut it for some privacy.

"Not sure Francis would appreciate you dragging me behind closed doors, Mary." He smirks and she folds her arms over her chest.

"Did you do this on purpose?" She asks calmly and he makes a face like he can't believe she just asked him that, but he knows why she would, he knows what he did. That night in her office, the reason Francis isn't speaking to her at the moment. One of the reasons, at least.

"Excuse me?"

"You did." She says and then she's pacing, "I can't…" She runs her hands through her hair, "I'm _married_ , do you not understand that?"

"Mary-"

" _You_ broke up with _me_." Her voice is rising now and she doesn't care if the other workers hear her, because she's mad and she's frustrated and she misses her husband. "You can't just come back and try to…"  
"Try to what?"

"You know what."

"Mary, I know I overstepped my boundaries a couple weeks ago, but I didn't come back here to screw up your marriage, you have a _kid_ why would I break up a family?" She doesn't say anything, "Did you explain to him what happened? Did you tell him it was my fault?"  
"Yes."

"And he still left you."

"It was...It was a mutual agreement."

"What happened doesn't warrant a separation even after an explanation." He says, "So that tells me it was broken long before I showed up. You can't keep blaming me for _your_ failing marriage."

"You can't keep flirting with me, Louis, and messing up on purpose because you want to spend more time with me, so please, get this done and leave me alone." She says softly.

"Fine." He says, "Fine. But for what it's worth, I regretted it the second you left." She knows how _that_ feels. "I should have been more patient with you, Mary, I can't help but think maybe we'd be married with a kid by now." No, no, they wouldn't be because she would have ended it before it got too serious anyway, especially since all she could think about was Francis during the entire duration of their relationship.

"No." She says softly, "There's something you don't know."

"What?"

"It wouldn't have worked." She whispers, "Because right after you broke up with me I bought a plane ticket to Paris."

"Would you ha-"

"And I was already looking at them while we were dating so…" She shrugs and his face does a thing, she struck a chord with that. She wouldn't allow herself to love him and he knows it, even if she developed some kind of fondness for him that went beyond mild infatuation, it never would have developed into real love because she loves Francis and she always did. "I'm sorry." She says softly because that was...that wasn't necessary.

"No, I needed to hear it. I really meant nothing to you, didn't I?" He asks and before she can open her mouth to speak he slams her notes down on a table. "I hope you and Francis figure it out." He snaps as he leaves.

"Louis…" She says as she tries to stop him, "I didn't mean it like that." He's already gone, the door swinging shut where he once stood. That's one way to put an end to his flirtations, gonna make working with him extremely hostile but that's fine.

She sighs as she walks out, heads back to the table, Louis has already returned to his work and there are a few whispers, but she tries to ignore it and just go back to work.

Her phone vibrates and she grabs it without looking up.

 **Francis:** _"I'm visiting my mother during lunch. Do you want me to stop by?"_

 **Francis:** _"Are you even here?"_

 **Mary:** _"I'm still with Louis."_ She hits send before she can even realize what she did wrong and she kicks herself for it. That's not going to make him want to talk to her anytime soon.

 **Mary:** _"I'll be there by 2?"_

 **Francis:** _"I gotta be back with Narcisse by 3. So that's fine."_

 **Francis:** _"Do you want me to bring you anything?"_

 **Mary:** _"Seafood salad from Leiths, please?"_

 **Francis:** _"Okay."_

* * *

 _-3 Years Ago-_

She asked for a small wedding, that's what they thought they would get with the limited time they had. Catherine planned it, everything, down to the cake. Mary's surprised the woman let her pick her dress. Catherine doesn't plan small events, and Mary never realized just how _big_ Francis' family actually was.

It's the most fun she's ever had though, even if it happened quickly and she had to sit down a lot.

She doesn't expect Kenna, Lola, and Greer to be in her apartment when they walk in though.

"Uh...hello?" Mary questions and then she looks around, "Did you guys…" Her voice trails off as she takes in her surroundings, there are candles everywhere, and rose petals on the floor and balloons clinging to the ceiling.

"Francis asked us to." Greer says as she releases a handful of rose petals on the couch, "Oh you weren't supposed to know that."

"There'd be more, but you came back too early," Lola smirks and Kenna shrugs.

"They're _tired_." She says with a wiggle of her eyebrows and then her friends are all shuffling out of her apartment.

"Thanks, guys," Francis says as he opens the door for them and they file out.

"Have _fuuunn_." Kenna sings as she closes the door and it doesn't take long for Mary to hear the soft click of the lock clicking in place and then Francis is spinning her around to face him.

"Hey." He says softly, "Are you crying?"

"I'm hormonal, shut up." She sniffles as she wipes her face. He laughs softly as he kisses her forehead, "Did you ever find out what happened to Henri?" She asks when he pulls her into his chest.

"Bash and Charles carried him home, he's fine." She laughs quietly as she wraps her arms around his neck, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him. "He'll just be really hungover tomorrow."

"He had fun."

"Yes, he did." He smiles.

"We got married today."

"We did." He says softly as he brushes her hair back, "Wanna go to bed?"

"I'm not tired." He gives her a look and she chews at her lip, " _Oh_. Okay, bed sounds...bed sounds great. Yeah."

"You're so cute." He smirks as he tugs her along, leads her to their bedroom and kisses her like he's never going to again

 _-/-._

Afterward when they're lying together and she toys with his wedding ring, twisting it around and around his finger and he watches her, the corner of his lips tilting up.

"You okay?" He asks softly and she nods.

"It just feels like a dream." She says softly, "Like I'll wake up and I'll be alone, you'll be back in Paris and the last few months never happened, like none of this was real." He shifts under her, looking down at her.

"Well, it _is_ real." He says with a smirk and then he's leaning in until they're nose to nose and he's just a breath away, "I'm yours, you're mine. We're married, _finally_. I'll never leave you."

"Promise?"

"I promise." He whispers as he closes the gap between their lips and kisses her gently. She lets him, but before he can deepen it she turns her head.

"Remember in…" She takes a deep breath as he presses hot kisses down her jaw to her neck and she combs her fingers through his hair as his lips find her collarbone and then down, down, down he goes, "When you were in college."

"Mhm." She's not even sure if he's listening but she continues.

"I asked you if you had our whole lives planned out." She chews at her lip, "You said either we'd end in a bitter divorce or one of us would die."

"Ssshhh, it was a joke." He breathes against her ribs and she giggles softly, "No ones dying and divorce is debatable."

" _Debatable?_ "

"If you keep talking, sweetie." He winks at her and she rolls her eyes, his lips reach her abdomen now and that's where he stops, his fingers finding the slight bump there. There isn't much, but that's where his hand always ended up before there was anything anyways. She'll never get rid of his hand on her stomach like this, he had to restrain himself enough today. She's a few days shy of twelve weeks now, barely showing at all. Give it another two weeks and people will probably be able to tell.

"I'll never leave you." Francis says softly, "Or our baby." He whispers, "Who we had to not talk about today and it nearly killed me."

"Do you think your extended family knew I was hiding a baby bump under my dress?"

"They might have suspected something when you almost threw up on Leeza's shoes."

"But I didn't." She says softly.

"No, you didn't." He hums, and then he wraps his arms around her back, presses a soft kiss to her bump and she thinks maybe he'll continue going down south with his ministrations but he doesn't. He just stays, resting his head against her and she smiles as she runs her fingers through his curls.

"You gonna sleep down there?" She asks softly. He nods, "Francis."  
"Hm?" He turns his head to look at her.

"Come up here." She says softly and he does, he crawls back up her body and kisses her lips before lying down next to her, pulling the blankets around them tightly.

"Are you happy?" She asks, brushing his hair back and he smiles.

"Happier than any man has a right to be."

"Good." She says softly, "Glad to know you don't regret it."

"I don't, do you?"

"No."

"Good."

"I wish my mom was here." She says softly, suddenly, because it's true. She never really thought about it, she always knew her father wouldn't be here to watch her get married but she always assumed her mother would, but now they're both dead and it's still so weird. If she and Francis got married years ago, she would have been.

"I know, baby." He whispers with a kiss to the top of her head and she snuggles more into him.

"Do you wish your dad was?"

"And watch him flirt with the bridesmaids? Nah." He says with a smirk but she can tell that deep down, he does. "Yeah. It would have been nice to have him around for this. Flirting with the bridesmaids or not." She laughs softly.

* * *

 _-Present-_

Louis kept giving her looks as she worked and she kept trying to ignore him, keeping her eyes on her screen and not on the clock. So when she looks up she sees it's nearly two thirty.

She was supposed to meet Francis at two.  
" _Shit._ " She breathes as she slams her computer shut and starts scrambling for her things while she digs out her phone. He doesn't answer as she heads for her car, Louis giving her a confused look as she runs out the door.

When she gets in her office, he _is_ there, sitting on the little leather couch against the wall and she breathes a sigh of relief when she sees him.

"You're late." He says simply and she nods.

"Yeah, I know...I lost track of time." She says trying to catch her breath.

"Sit, before you lose a lung." He smirks and she does. "You lost track of time." She nods, "With Louis."

"Trying desperately to avoid him actually."

"Lovers spat?" He asks

"Francis."

"Sorry." He says softly, "Other than that, how was your day?"

"Uneventful."

"Hm." He nods, she can tell there's more, he wants to say something, something is bothering him. He looks...different than the last time she saw him. He has dark circles under his eyes and he's paler, thinner. She reaches for his hand but he pulls away. "I don't have a lot of time, Mary." He says as he stands, "I have to be back soon."

"I know."

"Um." He rubs his arms like he's cold and she rises, "Bash is in Malibu with Kenna right now, they should be back in a few days."

"Francis, are you okay?"

"I'm _fine_." He snaps and she feels her shoulders slump, _that_ was uncalled for. He knows it was. He softens, "I'm sorry, that...I'm sorry."

"Are you okay?" She asks again, reaching for him and this time he doesn't pull away, he lets her fingers find his shoulders. "Francis?"

"I'm fine. I'm just...I haven't been sleeping very well. Bash's couch isn't very comfortable."  
"Neither have I." She says softly.

"Yeah...well…" He sighs, "Anne's excited to see you." She smiles.

"She is?"

"You're her mother."

"Usually she...doesn't want anything to do with me."

"She loves you, Mary." He says softly. She steps closer to him, wrapping her arms around him, pressing her head to his chest and he's hesitant to return her embrace, but then he does and it's to warm.

"Come home." She whispers, pulling back and he shakes his head. "Why?" She asks softly as he pushes her off him.

"No, Mary."

"Why?"

"You know why." He says softly and then he's checking his watch, reaching for his coat, "Don't pretend that you don't."

"We can't fix it if we don't try…"

"Mary. I'm not ready." He says, "I'm still angry."

"And you think I'm not?"

"What do you have to be angry about?"

"You don't remember, do you? What you said to me?" She asks, "About the-"

"No, I don't and I don't have time to do this right now."

"Francis-"  
"If you wanted to argue you should have cut your time with Louis a little shorter." He snaps as he tugs his coat on.

"Francis, wait please, I don't want to argue." She grabs his arm and he stops, turning away from the door. "Come home and we can talk about it, about everything. Please, I miss you. You're my husband…" He sighs, but he still shakes his head.

"I can't." He says softly. "Please stop asking me to."

"I-"

"Mary, you lied to me for months. _Months._ You didn't even have to, if you had come to me, I would have understood...but you didn't. That's not even mentioning Louis, if I ever see him I'll kill him." He's angrier than he was before, "I wasn't even going to bring this up but okay, if you want to talk let's _talk_ , Mary." He says as he walks back in, the door slamming shut. "I may not remember what I said to you but I can guarantee it wasn't that I regret marrying _you._ "

"I didn't say I regret it."

"No, you just said it was a mistake." He says coldly, "Our marriage, a mistake. Is Anne a mistake too?"

"Don't do that, of course not." She snaps, "Why would you even suggest that?"

"I don't know, Mary, you tell me." He says and she scoffs, running her fingers through her hair.

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?" She asks. He doesn't answer, "Are you saying I'm a terrible mother?" It's one of the things she was most afraid of with having Anne, that she would be just like her mom because her mom was terrible and horrible mother's breed horrible future mother's. He always told her she'd be great, that she wasn't like her mom, that she was so so different and she'd be amazing.

"No." He says and maybe that's not what he meant to say, maybe he wasn't saying she was an awful mother, "Mary, I wouldn't want another baby with you if I thought you weren't a good mother to the one we have."

"Then why did you-"

"Because I'm angry. Because when I look at you I see his lips on yours and that makes my blood boil in my skin."

"I didn't want him to-"

"I know, that's not the problem."

"Then-"

"You didn't tell me." Francis says and now he just looks hurt, "And you can't even give me a reason why you didn't tell me, you continued to see him."

"It's my job, I have to-"

"Stop." He says putting a hand up to stop her and she closes her mouth, "I love you. I love you so much, but we need time. Okay? We need time apart, so please stop asking me to come home."

"Okay." She says softly. He looks at his watch and sighs.

"I have to go now, I'll tell you later how Anne's open house went."

"Okay…"

"Let you know what day she starts." He runs a hand through his hair and then he's headed for the door, but he stops in front of her. Seems like he wants to kiss her, but he doesn't move to, so she does. She catches the corner of his mouth because he turns his head away the last minute and then he kisses her cheek.

"Bye, Francis." She says softly and then he's gone.

* * *

A/N: THEY'RE GONNA BE HAPPY IN A LITTLE BIT OKAY DON'T YELL AT ME


	3. Chapter 3

_-Present-_

Louis has been keeping his distance since their conversation. If you can call it that, she wouldn't call it an argument, but either party left it happy. He's been keeping their conversations strictly about work and nothing more. He doesn't ask about Francis or Anne or how she's feeling with everything, he doesn't flirt or make eyes. She's thankful, but she's also _bored_.

"Mary," She's startled by the voice and turns to see Catherine strolling through the door like she owns the place, she does but that's not the point. "I thought I'd stop by and see how our little project is coming along." Mary smiles as she gets up from her seat and gestures around. There's paint on the walls, the windows are in, doors, the floor needs polished and the electricity needs to be tested. It's further than it was the last time she was here; when it was just a layout drawn on paper.

"There were a few minor setbacks but it's almost done," Mary says as she approaches her. Catherine nods, her blonde curls bouncing around her face. It's one of the rare times she's had it down around her shoulders, it's usually done up. Mary never really realized how much she looked like Francis, or how much Francis actually took after her. He certainly didn't look that much like Henry.

"Good." Catherine says clapping her hands together, "Oh I meant to ask earlier, but have you spoken to Francis lately?"

"He called this morning about Anne, why? Is something wrong?" Catherine quickly shakes her head.

"He's been looking a bit under the weather. It might just be the situation." She says, but there's worry there hidden in her words.

"The situation." She says softly, slowly, if the situation is making him sick he can end it. He can come home she already told him she wanted him to.

"Has it improved?" Catherine asks suddenly, "He mentioned meeting up with you the other day to talk before he went back to work, how did it go?" She seems genuine enough in her questioning. Such a stark contrast to how she was with Paris, when she was cold and bitter, here she just seems...warm. As warm as she can get with Mary, she's never been her biggest fan.

"I tried to talk to him, but he didn't seem to want too." She says it softly, her voice carries in here, and she doesn't want Louis to know how bad it really is. She doesn't know what he would do with that information. "I don't want to push him to talk to me if he isn't ready." Catherine nods like she understands, but even she doesn't know the half of it. Unless Francis told her, but Mary doesn't see why he would and Louis would have been gone a long time ago if Catherine had known what happened in Mary's office.

She nods along though, the woman knows a thing or two about a rocky marriage, Francis may not take after Henry in looks but he takes after him in his stubbornness. Mary has no idea how Catherine and Henry managed to make it as long as he did. Francis made it a point, or tried, early on to make sure their marriage didn't mirror his parents.

And now he's sleeping on his brother's couch. Isn't the universe hilarious?

"Keep trying." Catherine says, "At least he's still talking to you."

"He wouldn't be if it wasn't for Anne." She hates that it's true, she hates that the only reason Francis even reaches out is to talk about Anne and that's it. She knows, that if a child wasn't involved he wouldn't be speaking to her at all. It would be a repeat of Paris, hey maybe he'd even go back.  
"Mary." Catherine says softly, "He loves you."

"I know."

"Would it be too invasive of me to ask what happened?" She asks. Is the sky falling? Did Mary pass out in a ditch and end up in another dimension? Did Catherine just ask if it would be too invasive of her? She really is turning a new leaf. It's a long story and Mary doesn't want to get into it right now.

"Catherine, I-"

"I may be able to help." She says and she means it, she does want to help. Even if she and Mary have their problems, she loves Francis more than anything and she knows he loves Mary. She doesn't want to see her son hurt again. Mary doesn't realize she did it until she does it. Her eyes fall on Louis and Catherine's gaze follows.

"It's a long story."

"Is Conde the antagonist?" Catherine asks, turning suspicious. She can't tell who that suspicion is directed to and that's terrifying.

"It's a lot more than Louis."

"Did something happen with that boy?" Catherine asks, she asks it loudly. Louis straightens but goes back to work, shoving a paint roller up the wall to cover missed areas.

"Not exactly."

"Not exactly?" Catherine spats, "Mary-"  
"We dated for like a month while Francis was in Paris, he still has feelings, I didn't tell Francis he was my ex." She says quickly, quietly, Catherine still eyes her suspiciously.

"So," She makes a clicking noise with her tongue, "Your husband, my son, is sleeping on his half-brothers' sofa because of what, jealousy? Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"I told you there is more to it than just Louis." She says softly.

"Did you sleep with him?" She asks suddenly, her voice rising just a little bit and Mary gapes.

"No!" It's a shout, "I didn't. I didn't. I swear."

"But he tried to get you to."

"No-"

"Did he touch you?"

"Catherine, please-"  
"Has he made any unwarranted sexual advances your way _at all_?" She's angry, of course, she is that would make anyone angry. Mary shakes her head quickly, "Mary, you have to tell me."

"He hasn't." She says softly, she can't tell her about the kiss, no not with how she's eyeing him right now, but he just keeps working. God, she hopes he can't hear them.

"He still has feelings for you, did he tell you that?"

"Yes…"

"Is that all he did?" She asks and she's eyeing Mary in a way that makes her skin crawl. Like she knows _something_ happened but she can't do anything about it until Mary says it.

"He misread the situation." She says softly, "It was my fault. I shouldn't have…" She shouldn't have talked to him about her personal life, she should have kept it strictly professional. Instead, she talked to him about her problems with Francis because she thought having another man's perspective might help her understand. She should have just talked to Francis, she should have confided in her husband. That's the first time she says it, the first time she says it was her fault. That she gave Louis the wrong impression and tears hit her eyes then.

They make Catherine think something worse than what she's saying happened.

"Mary." She says, "What did he do to you?" Catherines tugging her outside, out the door, away from Louis and Mary shakes her head because it's really not what she thinks.

"It was just a kiss." She says softly, "A stupid kiss."

"He kissed you." Catherine sighs heavily like she's relieved, "Oh thank heavens I thought…" She knows what she thought.

"I didn't tell Francis." She keeps talking, "I told Louis it could never happen again, I tried to push him away but he was holding me so tight and…"

"Francis doesn't know?"

"Someone saw...and they told him…" She whispers, she hates that, she wishes she would have told him, but he was already so mad at her for other things. She didn't want to make it worse, her stupid irrational brain kept telling her he'd hop on the next flight to Paris and she'd never see him again.

* * *

 _-2 Years Ago-_

The lights hurt her eyes; that's the first thing she thinks when she cracks them open. Next is that she's in the hospital and her entire body feels like it's been split in half, doused in gasoline, and set on fire. It's too bright in here, she wishes the blinds were closed. Why is she even in a hospital?

Oh. She had a baby. That's why. The last thing she remembers before passing out was Bash with bloodstained hands begging her to stay awake on her bathroom floor and then her voice, hoarse and tired, asking him why her baby wasn't crying. Then black.

Mary turns her head but she doesn't see anyone, tries to sit up but it sends her back down with a shout. The slightest movements make her feel like her organs are going to fall out. She whimpers.

She hears someone shift by the bed, and then she's being eased back down on the pillows.

"Francis?" She questions, she grabs at his shoulders.

"Yes." He whispers, "I'm right here, I'm here." His voice is soothing while he presses kisses on her hands, her cheeks, her forehead, anywhere there's skin exposed. "You scared the hell out of me, I thought I lost you." He looks like hell even though she's the one who had the baby. All dark circles, red-rimmed eyes. How long has she been out?  
"Where-" She takes in his features, the look on his face answers her question before she can ask it, "Is she dead? Did I…"

"Mary-"  
"Where's my baby?" She asks, frantic now, "Where is she?! Francis!" She cries and he's grabbing her, drawing her in, trying to calm her down but she's pushing against him despite how bad it hurts.

"Look at me, look at me." He's telling her, "She's okay."

"She's okay?" She cries and he smoothes her hair, kisses the top of her head.

"She's okay, she's perfect. She was early and they're running tests, okay?" He doesn't let her go and she clings to him, even though he smells like he hasn't showered in a week and has been drowning himself in deodorant and five-hour energy drinks. She starts crying and she doesn't know why. When Bash pulled her out, her baby was so still and wasn't moving and that was the last thing she saw before she passed out.

"I thought I killed her." She sobs.

"You didn't, she's okay." He says softly, "I told you to be careful on those stairs."

"I told you to fix the bathroom door." She says through her tears and she feels his laugh against his chest. She fell down the stairs, she thought she was okay because it was just one step she missed and then she went into the bathroom and on her way out; the door wouldn't open. Mary being Mary, she didn't take her phone in there, she couldn't get out. She went into labor.

"I'm so glad Bash forgot his jacket." Francis breathes in her hair.

"He's never going to look at me again."

"He's seen _enough_ of you." It's playful but slightly serious. Francis is obviously still jealous over Mary having a very innocent crush on Bash when she was in middle school.

"You've seen more." She points out, rolling her eyes when he smirks. He plucks a few tissues out of the box on the table by the bed and then he's wiping her face for her.

"You're amazing." He says suddenly looking at her like she hung the damn moon in the sky all by herself. "Incredible." He hums as he tilts her chin up to kiss her.

"Oh boy, we're interrupting." Kenna coughs from the doorway as Lola is trying and failing to shove her out. She has a basket overflowing with baby things.

"Give them a minute!" Lola huffs. Francis clears his throat to let them know they're _very_ noticeable. Greer mouths a " _sorry_ " as she walks in. She loves her friends but she wishes they would have waited a few more minutes. Francis helps her lie back down and turn on her side.

 _-/-_

She didn't expect her to be so tiny. The baby blanket weighs more than her. Mary peers down at her sleeping form, runs her thumb over her tiny cheeks. She can already tell she's going to look like Francis, she'd be annoyed if she wasn't so cute.

"She looks like you," Mary says softly and Francis shifts in his chair, leaning to get a better look. Apparently, he isn't close enough though because next thing she knows, he's getting on the bed.

"I don't think this is allowed." She tells him softly and he just smirks.

"It is if they don't know."

"What if I tel-"

"Snitches get stitches."

"What if I already have stitches?" She grins, because she does, she has quite a few.

"Do you want more?" He asks and she laughs softly, leaning her head on his shoulder, his arm goes around her. His other hand seeks out the tiny foot sticking out of the baby blanket.

"Hey." He says softly, "We made that."

"Wow. I had no idea you were an active participant."

"I was, sweaty work."

"Wow, I bet it was exhausting for you."

"Oh, so exhausting, darling." He says, "Best thirty seconds of your life though" He winks. _That_ gets a laugh out of her, loud, hard; _painful_. She winces but keeps laughing.

"Thirty seconds?" She laughs, "Oh my god."

"Best thirty seconds of your _life_."

"Okay, minute man." She giggles, "You're gonna regret that joke later."

"No." He sighs, "I don't regret anything that shows me that gorgeous smile of yours." And now he's quite serious. She rolls her eyes.

"Do you want some nachos with that cheese?" She asks with a quirk of her brow and he smiles, leans forward, he gets to finish that kiss he didn't get to _start_ earlier and this time no one walks in.

"She needs a name," Mary says softly when he pulls away.

"Thought we already agreed on one."

"Does she look like an Anne to you?" Mary asks, she doesn't know. Francis looks at her, pulling the blanket back gently so he doesn't wake her. He clicks his tongue against his teeth.

"She looks like a potato, babe." He says and Mary gapes at him.

"When she's like...sixteen and she hates me but adores you, I'm telling her you said that." She scoffs and he just gives her a look.

"Be my guest, I'll just tell her you birthed her on the bathroom floor." He shifts to look at her more directly, "By the way, Jesus, put a towel down next time."

"I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking on account of the _actual_ human coming out of me."

"I'm just saying, sunshine, it looks like the set of _Game of Thrones_ in there." She rolls her eyes for the hundredth time.

"We're getting off topic."

"I think she looks like an Anne." He says softly pressing a kiss to Mary's cheek.

"My little Annie."

"Our little Annie." She smiles at that. She still can't believe any of this is real if it's a dream she never ever wants to wake up.

* * *

 _-Present-_

Mary ends up having to call Francis, her car won't start and she already tried everyone else. It's late, he didn't sound pleased about having to come and get her, but she knows Francis, and he isn't going to let her walk home alone or take a cab at this hour. So, that's how she ends up outside her office building, clutching her coat to keep it tight around her, squinting in the snow that's blowing around.

She barely sees his car pull up through it. She opens the door with a sigh.

"Hi." She says softly.

"Sorry," He sighs as he grabs the stuffed elephant out of the passenger seat, "Anne was playing earlier," He sets it in the car seat in the back and then she's sitting down and closing the door. He pulls away before she's even buckled.

"I'm sorry I called you." She says softly and he gives her a look, "It's just...late and-"

"It's alright, I'd rather you ride with me than some stranger. Not this late and walking is out of the question."

"I-"

"Mary, it's alright, really."

"Where's Anne?" She asks softly, noticing she isn't in the car, Francis wouldn't leave her home alone. She doesn't care how deep the sleep she was in.

"Sleeping with Bash."

"They're back?"  
"Came back this morning." He says. Oh. She could have called Kenna, she really should have called Kenna.

"I...should have called her, I'm sorry. I didn't know." He doesn't say anything, he focuses on the road and the snow. The rest of the ride is quiet and Mary finds herself thinking about that day they got trapped in the elevator together. The week he came back from Paris for the banquet and he didn't want anything to do with her. He begged her to just be quiet, to shut up, and she didn't then.  
She didn't then, but she does now. She remembers being so desperate to talk to him and for him to talk to her. She didn't even care if he bit her head off, she just needed to hear his voice, even if he spit venom her way because she broke his heart. She stares down at her hands now, quiet. She didn't notice until now that her fingernails are digging in her palm so hard it hurts. She doesn't stop, it gives her something to focus on. When she looks up she sees him glance at her and then jumps when she feels his fingertips gently tugging on her hand, smoothing over her palm with his thumb and then his fingers slide in the spaces between her own. He still doesn't speak but she's looking at him now, half expecting him to pull away, but he doesn't.

That's a good sign, right?

"We're here." He says after a little while and she peers out the window because that was really quick, "Are you afraid I got the wrong house?" He asks and she shakes her head.

"No, that was just fast." She says softly. Then she's unbuckling but she doesn't move to get out. He's still holding her hand so he maybe he doesn't want her to get out either.  
She doesn't want this to end. Not yet. It doesn't have to end, he can stay, he _lives_ here. They're _married_. Something both of them seem to keep forgetting.

"It's late, Mary, I should get back."

"Wait." She says softly, grabbing his hand with her other one to keep his fingers linked with hers when he tries to pull away. "Please, can we just sit? You can come inside."

"I don't think that's a good idea." He says softly and he considered the sitting part, but she lost him at _come inside_.

"Why?" She asks and he just looks at her, a look that says ' _God dammit you know why_.'

"Go inside, get some sleep. We'll talk when you pick Anne up." He says and she shakes her head.

"About _what?_ Some fake, half-assed conversations? More ' _how are yous_ ' and ' _lovely weather we're havings?_ ' That's all you'll give me." It's a snap, it comes out of nowhere, she just wants to talk to him. Is that too much to ask for? The snap changed his demeanor entirely, he was _fine_ , he was... _okay._ And she went and angered him, but he doesn't say anything. He just looks at her.

"And then you ignore me for a week until you have to pick up Anne or I drop her off and...rinse, repeat, right?" She asks. He still doesn't speak, "Do you even want to be married to me anymore?" Her voice breaks on that last question because she's been wanting to ask him for a while now. And that does something to him, she doesn't have time to find out what because he fists a hand in her hair and pushes her towards him without a word.

It's urgent the way he brings her to his lips, needy, desperate, unlike anything she's experienced before. It's entirely Francis, though mixed with anger and need, it still felt like him. Still made her body tingle in a way only Francis could bring out of her. It's all teeth and tongue and she doesn't know how to process this. He hasn't kissed her in so long, and certainly not like _this_.

She brings a hand up to tangle in his hair and his leaves hers to rest on the back of her neck. The kiss slows down, softens, but doesn't stop. She doesn't want it to stop, she doesn't want it to ever stop. She wants to pull him in the house and never break this, she wants to climb in his lap. She wants him and she's sure he knows that.

The hand that was holding hers moves to rest on the bare skin of her thigh, his fingertips resting just beneath the fabric of her skirt. She could lift it for him, she could take his hand and put it where she wants it and beg him to touch her. He usually likes it when she's verbal with what she wants. She was so shy when all this first started; when it was just out of nowhere kissing on her couch or in his bed when no one was home. She didn't know how to tell him what she wanted then.

It's getting too hot in this little car and she wants to take him inside but she knows the second she breaks this he isn't going to want a repeat. Because it's Francis and this doesn't solve anything, but neither does not talking.  
And if they _had_ to pick one, she'd pick this. She doesn't want this to end, she wants to stay like this forever and ever. No screaming, no blaming, no yelling, just _them_. Just like this.

He pulls away suddenly, he breaks it, but he keeps his forehead pressed to hers and she's grateful for that. Their noses are touching, their lips are so close but too far away to touch, but if she tilts her head a little she can kiss him.

"I'm sorry." Francis breathes and she doesn't know what he's saying sorry for. The kiss, or everything he doesn't have to be sorry for? "I don't...I don't know why I did that."

"Don't apologize for that." She whispers and then she tilts her head to kiss him again and this time he does pull away completely.

"You should...probably get inside." He says softly. She doesn't want to go inside, not if he isn't coming with her. Not after _that_.

"Francis-"

"Please, go." He says and she notices something she didn't before. When a car passes and he's shown to her in the headlights, she notices just how sick he actually looks.

"Francis, oh my god." She's reaching now and he can't run away in this car so her fingers find him. She presses the back of her hand to his forehead, his cheeks, his neck. At this point, he just looks annoyed.

"Mary, I-"

"You have a fever." She says softly, he's sweating and it isn't from the kiss. It's a fever.

"I'm fine."

"I have some medicine inside, come with me and I'll get it for you."  
"Mary-"  
"Just a minute." She says, "And then you can leave, please?" It's how she says it that has him nodding, inside they go.

 _-/-_

It's nice to see the house lit up again, it hardly ever is anymore. Since she leaves for work so early in the morning and then comes home so late at night. She doesn't really need to turn the lights on. Francis sits on the couch, looking around as though he expects the house they shared to have changed drastically since the last time he was here.

"I'll be right back." She says as she tugs her coat off. He looks...well he looks like hell. All dark circles and pale skin, thin. He looks worse than the last time she was this close to him. It takes her longer than expected to find the medicine but she finds it and digs some pills out. She gets him a glass of water and when she comes back she sees he has his coat off now too.

She fights the urge to smile, but she can't help but feel a little happy. He's here, in this house, he _kissed_ her. It almost feels back to normal, it would feel even better if Anne were here too.

He takes the medicine and then rubs at his eyes.

"Do the lights hurt?" She asks quickly already reaching to turn a lamp off.

"No." He says softly, "I'm just...tired, I guess." She nods.

"So, is it contagious?" She figures she should ask considering he just had his tongue down her throat. He shakes his head.

"I don't think so."

"Have you been to a doctor?"

"No."

"Go see a doctor." She scolds and he gives her a look.

"You try getting an appointment during flu season, darling, it doesn't work." He's being playful. She smiles, he's feeling a little better. Which is good because she was hoping the medicine wasn't expired. She takes his empty glass out to the kitchen, washes it out while she's in there and when she comes back she expects to see him standing, ready to leave.

He's asleep. She walks over to make sure, she'd wake him and tell him to go upstairs to her bed because it would be more comfortable but she knows if she did that; he'd leave. So, she takes the blanket off the back of the couch and covers him with it, turns off the lights, and goes to bed hoping he'll still be there when she wakes up.

* * *

A/N: Sorry, this took so long, it's pretty long. I hope you like it. They're doing this separation thing really well, obviously.


	4. Chapter 4

_-Present-_

She awakes early the next morning with someone's arm draped loosely over her waist and for one sleepy, groggy, second she's ready to draw her arm back and elbow the hell out of them. Then she remembers last night and Mary turns over slowly, carefully, to find that Francis not only stayed but he also found his way to their bed with zero prompting from her. It's a cloudy morning, the room is still a little dark despite the clock reading it was nearly seven thirty and Mary tries not to move too much so she doesn't wake him as she reaches.

He looks so peaceful like this, no worry lines or angry expressions on his face, it's just Francis. She wonders when he crawled into bed with her and if he even realized he did it. Will he be angry when he wakes up? Or with he stay with her for a little bit? She's taken by surprise when he pulls her towards him until she's against him. He's warm, really warm, the remnants of the fever he had last night still boiling under his skin. It feels better today and she hopes he does too. She pulls her hand back quickly when he groans, face nuzzling her neck now.

"Your hands are cold." He says sleepily.

"Sorry," She whispers, "I just like touching you." She says, using one of his lines against him. The same thing he tells her when he wakes her with his roaming fingers, though what he usually did to rouse her from sleep was a lot more explicit than what she was doing. She can't see his face but she can _hear_ the smirk as he tightens his arm around her.

"Touch away."

"Francis." She says softly, he doesn't move, he sighs in her neck, seemingly falling back asleep. Or so she thought. Mary feels his lips on her neck a moment later, soft, sleepy, lazy. Is she still sleeping? Is going to wake up in a few minutes alone, Francis having already left?

She's sure he wouldn't be doing this if he were wide awake, so he has to be somewhere between sleeping and waking. She wonders how far he'll let her go. She shifts slowly, leans in until their noses are touching, he still hasn't opened his eyes yet and she's surprised when he lets her mouth cover his tentatively.

He breathes into it, tugging her as close as she can get to him and he lets her deepen it without protest. His hand slides up from her waist to rest on her neck, thumb tracing her jawline as he becomes more awake and a bit more focused. Then Francis is moving and she thinks maybe he's pulling away, but he's leaning over her now, pushing her under him. She no longer cares if whatever he has is contagious as her fingers find his hair and he wedges his leg between her own.

It's not like last night when it felt like he was trying to devour her whole. This is slow and soft, the haze of sleep still hanging over him but fading as the second's tick by. She wonders if he realizes he's doing this to her, wonders if he thinks this is a dream too.

This doesn't solve anything, though it feels good, they have so much to talk about. She wonders if he'll be as open to her kisses when he's fully awake. He probably won't be, he'll probably come to his senses here in a minute and then leave.

"Francis," She says between kisses, "Will you stay?" She asks softly, and she knows she shouldn't have asked it as soon as it came out of her mouth and hit his ears. His face does something, it changes for a second. He looks _disgusted_ with the thought of it, but then it's back to normal in a flash and if she had blinked she would have missed it. She wishes she did blink, even as he leans back in to kiss her and she still lets him because it's Francis, her actual _husband_ , the father of her child.

This has to be some twisted form of punishment, to keep kissing her like this and then turning around and refusing to come home. She keeps kissing him anyway, tangling her fingers in his hair, hooking her leg around his hips, sighing in his mouth. A sound escapes her lips when his fingers find where her shirt rode up and then she feels his hand, hot against the bare skin of her stomach as it slowly makes its way up. She kisses him harder, deeper, whatever she can do besides speaking to get him to explore more of her.

The sudden ringing of a phone startles both of them and Francis pulls away quickly, like a kid who just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"It's Bash." He tells her, rubbing his eyes as he reaches for his phone, "Probably wondering why I didn't come back." She leans back against the pillows and watches him answer the phone, hoping that he'll want to continue whatever that was when he hangs up. That's wishful thinking.

"I'm with Mary." Francis says glancing at her, "I gave her a ride last night." Pause for the mother of all eye rolls. There's a slight smirk there though, and Mary doesn't have to ask what he said. " _Home_ , get your head out of the gutter, dude." He sighs, "It was late so I stayed over." cue another roll of his pretty blues. "I'm not even going to acknowledge that."

"Head still in the gutter?" Mary asks softly and Francis glances at her as he nods. At least Bash is as eager as Mary to end this separation, she wishes Francis felt the same way. "I'll come back soon, can you get Anne up? I want her awake for a little while before Mary picks her up." Oh, crap her car. She pokes him to get his attention.

"Tell him to fix my car." She says and he does, but she has to have it towed back to her house before that happens, so either Francis brings Anne to her or she rides with him to get her and then he drops them off here. She could push getting her back until tomorrow but she really doesn't want to do that, then she only has one full day to spend with Anne.

Francis hangs up after a little while and she reaches for him but, as she thought, he doesn't let her lips touch his, turns his head before she can anyway. He was _fine_ with it a minute ago and now he isn't. She tries not to let the frustration show on her face as she watches him tug his boots on, but he sees it when he stands and turns around to look at her.

"What?" He asks.

"Nothing." She says softly. He makes a face, raises an eyebrow.

" _Something_." He says, "Mary. Tell me."

"Just leave, it's what you're good at." She snaps, she regrets it the second she says it. She doesn't even know why she said it. He stills, scoffs and then he's running his hands through his hair and over his face.

"Mary, for the love of god, please tell me this isn't about what I think it's about." He says on a breath and she doesn't look at him. " _Mary_."

"You were gone…" She says and she should really stop, just stop because this isn't fair and she knows it isn't. Her mouth can't stop though, even if she knows she should. "You disappeared."

"That was then, this is now." He says. "I'm not going anywhere."

"It doesn't feel any different than it did before, Francis, you're here but you're not here and I...you only talk to me about Anne, anything else is off limits; if we didn't have a kid; you wouldn't be talking to me at all and you know it."

* * *

 _-1 Year Ago-_

She doesn't hear the bathroom door open and close over the sound of the water running over her. She doesn't hear him strip off his clothes, or see the shower curtain pull back. She does feel his arm go around her waist and she almost lets out one of those screams that could put the shower scene in _Psycho_ to shame. She only stops herself because she feels his wedding ring against her skin. The jump and sharp intake of breath are beyond her control though.

"Hey you," Francis chuckles as his lips find the skin of her neck, kisses a path down to her shoulder and she takes a deep breath to try and calm herself down.

"You scared the hell out of me." Mary whines and that only makes him laugh harder.

"I'm sorry, sweetie, that wasn't my intention."

"What was your intention?" She asks, and then his arms move away from around her waist, one finger trailing from her jaw line down to her neck, over her shoulder, hands skimming slowly down her arm and up her back and then down.

"Really want to know?"

"Mhhm." She's hardly paying attention now, not with his hands all over her like this, but a sudden realization brings her back to her senses. "Where's Anne?!"  
"Asleep." Francis answers quickly, kisses the top of Mary's head, quieting the worry in her voice, "Do you really think I'd be in here with you if something happened to her?" He asks, and she shakes her head, he wouldn't be, but Mary's mind is pretty irrational when it comes to Anne.

"I decided to let her sleep a little longer today." He tells her, presses a kiss to her neck, "All that walking yesterday wore her out." Mary smiles sadly. Anne started walking yesterday without help for the first time and she missed it, missed it like she misses everything else.

"She's getting so big…" Mary says softly, tilting her head to the side so he can cover more of her skin with his lips. He hums his acknowledgment but doesn't say much more about it as he continues his assault on her neck. She reaches up, tangles her fingers in his hair, which is damp now from _her_ shower that he decided to _hijack_. His hand has returned to her waist and now rests on her hip, fingers drumming there.

She lets her eyes slide shut as he continues, lips finding that place just below her ear that makes her stomach flip and her skin tingle.

"I…" She trails off, knowing what she wants to say but not being able to form the words, not with where his hand has been slowly moving towards.

"You?" He questions, she can't see him but she can feel the smirk against her skin, he knows what he does to her, he thinks it's _funny_ to render her speechless. His hand continues it's slow descent down, "Am I distracting you?" She shakes her head. If she says yes, he'll stop. Or he'll just go slower. He loves toying with her, it's his favorite pastime.

What were they talking about? Oh. Right.

"Francis," She breathes, "Baby…" He's touching her now, though still torturously slow.

"Baby." He tugs on her skin with his teeth, "You've never called me that before." He says. He calls her that all the time, he calls her a lot of things. She wonders if he remembers her actual name half the time. But that's not what she was saying. She shakes her head.

"No?" He asks, "Hm, I like hearing my name spill from your lips anyway." She's trying to turn around now, and eventually, he stops and lets her, looking at her fondly as he takes his thumbs and gently wipes the water droplets on her eyelashes away. "My love we're on a time crunch here." They always are.

"I want another one."

"Another what?" He asks, confusion twisting his pretty face.

"Another _baby_." She smiles and he blinks, but then the confusion fades and he smiles too.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."  
"Right now?" He asks and she nods because now he's really closing in on her, she barely has time to wrap her arms around his neck before her back hits the wall. She yelps when she nearly slips, forgetting for a moment where she is and not being careful.

"I got you, I got you," Francis says softly, trying his best not to laugh and failing miserably at it.

"Oh, you're laughing?" She questions, "Do you want to explain to your mother why I suddenly required the need for crutches?"

"You can borrow Lola's." He giggles in her neck.  
"I'm telling her you said that!" She gapes, funny how it's been so many years since Lola even _had_ crutches and everyone still finds a way to make fun of her. It's all in good fun though, a way to make light of a very dark situation. She doesn't really think about it, she can't even remember the last time she did. She shakes thoughts of Aylee from her mind as Francis kisses her softly and she tightens her arms around his neck to keep from falling.

She remembers once Kenna told her shower sex was the most fun she ever had, though for Mary it's more _try not to fall and die_ than it is the sex part. There's a lot of giggling, slipping and sliding around, both of them trying not to break each other, even a ' _try putting your leg here._ ' It's definitely not like the steamy romance movies make you believe it is. It doesn't do much in terms of finishing for either one of them but at least they can have a good laugh about it.

When they do eventually get out, she watches him as she tugs on her robe to make sure he behaves. He _doesn't_. That would be too much to ask. He tugs on his pants and then he's grabbing her, covering her mouth with his before she can even _think_ about protesting, and then he's backing her against the door.

"Francis." She breathes, they spent way too long in the shower, "I'm going to be late for work." She says as he presses hot kisses to her neck.

"Queens are never late." He whispers in her ear, tugging her robe open with a swift movement of his hands.

"Francis."  
"Hm?"

"I'm going to be late."

"What did I _just_ tell you?" He looks personally offended by her inability to listen. She rolls her eyes, presses a soft kiss to his lips.

"I gotta go get dressed."

 _-/-_

"Hey, you were serious about having another baby earlier, right?" Francis asks from the bed as he watches her get dressed.

"Yes." She smiles and he smiles, "I want to have another one."

"Great." He smiles, "I can put one in you right now if you come over here." He gestures at the empty side of the bed that belongs to her. She makes a face as she pulls her skirt up, zipping the back. "Sounded sexier in my head."

"Did it?" She asks, and then she's sifting through the closet to find a blouse. Turning her back on him was her _first_ mistake. She feels something hit her back, yelps and turns to see it was a pillow. "Did you just hurl a pillow at me?" She asks, squinting at his stupid, innocent, _I-don't-know-what-you're-talking-about,_ face.

"Oh my, how did that get over there?" He asks.

"Gee, I don't know." She glares. He tsks.

"Damn poltergeists." He says with a shake of his head.

"Blonde poltergeists." He smiles and she turns back around slowly, she gets a few moments of silence, the sun is rising, their room taking on a bright orange glow. It'd be romantic if she wasn't so annoyed right now. She's just about to tug on a blouse when his voice reaches her ears again, the seriousness of it is the only thing keeping her from wringing his neck.

"Mary before you leave can you hand me that?" He asks, pointing at the pillow at her feet and she raises her eyebrow at him. "I'm only asking because it's so close to you." He says and he's serious. So she nods and finishes getting ready and by now she's forgotten his antics.  
Trusting him was her _second_ mistake.  
When she walks over to hand him the pillow, she's quick but he's quicker, grabs the pillow and throws it over his shoulder and the next thing she knows he has her pinned down on the bed, straddling her hips.

"Francis!" She scolds but she's laughing, hard to convince him she doesn't find this funny or cute if she's _laughing_ right along with him. How did he even get her under him so fast? "Let go!"

"Make me." He smirks, "Oh, wait. You can't use your arms right now _haha_."

"I'm going to be _late_." She reiterates, " _Laaate_. Literal cause for termination."  
"My mother would never fire you."

"Sure, tell that to the poisoned casserole she sent after we moved in together." She squirms but that only makes his smile widen.

"Oh god, will you let that go? She didn't know you were allergic."

"Not the point!" She says, "Francis pleeeaassseee." She whines, "I like paychecks."

"I'll let you go."

"Thank-"

" _If-_ " Dammit. "You let me kiss you." She squints at him. It's an innocent request, but it's also _Francis_.

"Just a peck."

"Sure."

"Francis."

"Fine." He pouts and she sighs, stops squirming long enough for him to lean down and capture her lips. She should have known it wasn't going to be a peck, he's not that kind of person. That would be too god damn _easy_. No, instead, the man has her melting in his arms after two seconds, has her fingers twisting in his hair.  
She's late for work.

* * *

 _-Present-_

"Wow." He says with a click of his tongue, "I'm sorry, refresh my memory was it or wasn't it _you_ who told me to leave _both_ times?"

"Francis-"

"I just want to make sure that you know, that you remember  
it correctly, for the next time you decide to throw Paris in my face again  
because apparently, we can't have this fight once, it has to be rehashed every single time you're a little bit angry with me." She doesn't say anything, she doesn't have to, he keeps going, "You wanted this." It's soft, but it hits her like a truck and then she's getting up.

"I didn't want _this_." She gestures between them. "Space was supposed to help, it was supposed to make it better but it isn't, it's worse."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Talk to me." She says, "Or yell, something. I can't take the silence, Francis, it feels like-"

" _Don't_."

"It feels like Paris." He makes a frustrated noise, "Francis-"

"Fine." He says, "You want me to talk? Or yell or something? Where would you like me to start?" He waits for a response but she doesn't give him one, "Conde? I could start there, though I think we've pretty much covered that one."

"I didn't want him to kiss me."

"The kiss isn't the problem." He says, "You should have told me the second he decided it was a good idea to put his hands on you, his lips on yours. I had to find out days after the fact from another person's mouth. It's a good thing, Mary, that I didn't come looking for you like I wanted. I would have seen it and I don't know what would have happened if I had."

"I'm sorry…" She says softly, "I know I should have told you. I didn't know how, I didn't want to make you angrier."

"The anger would not have been directed at you."

"Francis-" He shakes his head like he can't bear to talk about it anymore. So she doesn't say anything, she just stands there, staring at the floor. She asked for this, she wanted him to talk to her and he is, even if she feels like she might burst into tears. He doesn't speak for a little while, doesn't yell at her, he isn't even looking at her. Then she hears him sigh, a deep, heavy breath that claws its way out of his throat and she knows what's next. The topic they've both been doing their best to avoid.  
"You said you wanted to try." This admission is softer, sadder like he's just disappointed in her. A growing theme, apparently. "Mary…"

"I know…" She says, "I should have been honest, I should have told you I wasn't ready," She's reaching, "Francis, I'm so sorry please try to understand." He's stepping back and away from her arms. It was the worst thing she could ever do to him, knowing how much he wanted their little family to grow, but it was absolutely gut-wrenching to think she might not actually be able to give that to him. To think that her body was a _one and done_ kind of deal and she couldn't give him any more than the one they already have. She went about it all wrong.

"I wish I could." He says softly, "I don't understand why you didn't just come to me, you didn't have to say yes, Mary, I would never force you to do anything you didn't want to do." She knows that's true, but at that point, they had grown so far apart she was grasping at anything that might pull them back together. She didn't want to upset him by saying no. She didn't want to hurt him.

"I would have understood." He continues, "I know how scary it must have been with Anne, you were all alone and bleeding, in so much pain." He shakes his head again, he still kicks himself for not being there, but that was then and it _was_ scary, but that wasn't why.

"And then." He says softly but he doesn't continue, he doesn't have to.

"I know sorry doesn't fix it, Francis, it's a long way from fixed but..." She tries to reach for him again and this time he lets her, "Come back…"

"Mary-"

"You don't have to leave at all, you can stay here while I pick up Anne and things can start going back to normal and-" He's shaking his head, "I'll do anything, Francis."

"I don't think that's a good idea right now." Okay, now she's really pissed. What the hell was ten minutes ago? What was last night in his car? She shoves him, harder than she meant to and he stumbles a little, a look of confusion and disbelief on his face.

"Then why did you kiss me?" She asks, "And why did you get in bed with me and kiss me more? If you're so mad at me, so disgusted with the thought of coming home to me, _why?_ "

He's looking at her like she's crazy like he has no idea how to answer her. She sits on the side of the bed and just looks at him, with what she's sure is the most pathetic look on her face. He shakes his head for the thousandth time this morning as he sighs for the millionth.

"You keep messing with my head, Francis and it isn't fair." She says, "You want me one minute and then you don't the next and I get it, you're angry about a lot of things, but-"

"Mary-"

"No, you got to talk, it's my turn now." She snaps and she can't read his expression but he doesn't try to say anything else, he gives her the floor. "Are you punishing me?"

"What?" His face twists into something, like that's the most absurd thing he's ever heard in his life.

"You kiss me, tell me you love me, that you still want me, we even almost-" She shakes her head, "And then you're pushing me away in the same breath, you won't come home, you won't talk to me, I don't know what to do."

"I'm not punishing you." He says softly, voice sounding different now, anger evaporating just a little, "I kissed you because you're my wife, I want you because despite everything I still love you." He says, "You could burn an orphanage to the ground and I would still love you."

"That's morbid." She sniffles, wiping at her eyes, "And I wouldn't do that."

"Well I hope not, I'd have a hard time defending you."

"Francis."  
"Hm?"

"Promise you'll come back?" She asks softly, "After enough time has passed…"

"I promise." He says, "There are no planes waiting for me this time."

"And…" She takes a deep breath, "Talk to me more...not just about Anne, no snide remarks, no arguing, just tell me about your day or something." His response isn't as quick as the other one was, but she sees him nod after a few beats. The least they could do is try to have a civil conversation.

"Okay." He says softly, "But you have to do the same." It shouldn't be that hard, they are married, and if he can't come home right now, maybe not for a while; he could at least try calling her sometimes to just talk. They can maybe just ease back into things.


	5. Chapter 5

Anne sleeps in the bed with her when it's Mary's turn to have her. She knows it'll be a habit they're going to have a hard time breaking her of but she doesn't like sleeping alone. Anne is the perfect cuddle bug.  
Francis makes good on his promise, he does talk to her more and so far things are... _okay_. They did get in another argument the other day though, Mary made the mistake of mentioning Louis. She was just trying to tell him about work. She hasn't been very responsive to him since and that was three days ago.

Her phone dings from the nightstand and she's careful as she moves not to wake Anne, who is curled in a ball at Mary's side. She was hoping it'd be Francis, but her heart sinks when she realizes it isn't.

 **Kenna:** " _I am declaring all of you my Valentines._ "

 **Greer:** " _Sure, babe, but you're breaking it to Rose._ "

 **Lola:** " _Does this mean I have to get you a gift?_ "

 **Kenna:** " _Gifts are appreciated but optional._ "

 **Kenna:** " _Mary, I know you're reading this come join us._ "

 **Lola:** " _Mary, Are you okay?_ " She's not, she's decent, but she misses Francis so much she can hardly stand it. At least Annie is here.

 **Mary:** " _I'm fine._ "

 **Kenna:** " _Poor Mary misses her Francis. :(_ "

 **Greer:** " _You could call him._ "

 **Kenna:** " _OR_ "

 **Kenna:** " _Hear me out._ "

 **Mary:** " _I'm afraid but I'm intrigued._ " Anne stirs next to her, stretching out on the bed and Mary smiles as she pulls the blanket up around her.

 **Kenna:** " _Come get your man._ "

 **Mary:** " _What do you want me to do? Throw a bag over his head and shove him in the trunk of my car?_ "

 **Kenna:** " _Kinky._ "

 **Lola:** " _I'd do it if I were in town._ "

 **Greer:** " _I'll do it right now._ " Mary rolls her eyes but laughs softly when Greer sends her a picture of a bag and duct tape.

 **Mary:** " _You guys are not kidnapping my husband._ "

 **Lola:** " _Well someone has to._ "

 **Kenna:** " _Mary, it's Valentine's Day!_ "

 **Mary:** " _I'm aware._ "

 **Kenna:** " _Come get Your Francis."_ She rolls her eyes again as she sets her phone down on the bed and snuggles up to Anne. She's sleeping so soundlessly, without a care in the world; too little to understand what's going on. She's happy she won't remember this bump in the road when she's older, she won't remember the fighting, the yelling and blaming. They tried so hard to keep her away from it, but sometimes things just got out of hand. God, she looks like Francis. Well, she looks like Francis all the time, but it really shows when she's sleeping. Her hair is a mess, blonde curls tangling the same way his did. It's longer than Mary thought, reaching just passed her jaw.

"Anne," Mary whispers sweetly, she needs to wake her up and get ready for work. The kid stirs but doesn't wake, nose scrunching in the cutest way before her face relaxes in a peaceful slumber again. She decides they can lay here a little bit longer. Her phone buzzes and she groans as she reaches for it, tangled in the blankets now. She's expecting Kenna or her other pesky friends.

 **Francis:** " _Kenna is acting strange._ "

 **Mary:** " _When isn't she?_ "

 **Francis:** " _She's following me around with a bag?_ " Mary sits up, bites her hand to keep from laughing too hard because imagining it was downright hilarious.

 **Mary:** " _Oh my god._ "

 **Mary:** " _Stay away from her car._ "

 **Mary:** " _Also maybe avoid Greer today._ "

 **Francis:** " _...Why?_ "

 **Mary:** " _I made a joke about kidnapping you and they might be taking it too seriously._ " He doesn't respond.

 **Mary:** " _Francis?_ " Nothing, she waits a few seconds. Still nothing. She wouldn't actually...that's insane.

 **Mary:** " _FRANCIS?_ "

 **Francis:** " _Did I get you?_ " his response is quick and she shakes her head, leaning back against the pillows, sweeping Anne's hair out of her face.

 **Francis:** " _You're asking your friends to kidnap me now?_ "

 **Mary:** " _In my defense, I told them no._ "

 **Francis:** " _What are you going to do? Tie me up and stick me in the basement?_ "

 **Mary:** " _Maybe._ "

 **Francis:** " _Sounds like fun. Maybe call off the hit though?_ "

 _-/-_

He doesn't mention anything about what today is and she wouldn't blame him if, with everything going on, he forgot. Mary stops at her office, running a little behind schedule because she fell back to sleep curled up with Anne. She flicks on the light to find something sitting on her desk, a vase of pretty red and pink flowers and she's hit with the strongest wave of deja vu as she walks over and plucks the card off the flowers.

" _I love you, even if it feels like I don't. Happy Valentine's Day. -Francis_ "

So he did remember. She smiles sadly, she misses him so much, especially today. She is curious to know how he keeps getting in here, she locks the door every night before she leaves. He never did tell her how he broke in the first time to deliver the flowers for her mom. She can't ask him right now, even if she wanted to because she has to go. So she grabs her things and heads out.

When she pulls up to the lot, it's empty and vacant and there's no one around. Which is weird because usually there's a lot going on when she pulls up, trucks, people with tools, Louis directing people around but there's just...nothing. Mary pulls out her phone and calls him with a frustrated scowl dancing on her face.  
"What did I do to deserve a call from you on Valentine's day?" Louis asks with far too chipper of a voice and Mary shakes her head. "Shouldn't you be with Francis?"

"Shouldn't you be here?" Mary asks dryly, "Working?" There's silence now, Louis makes a confused noise like he has no idea what she's talking about.

"Catherine…" He says, "Catherine didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" She asks with a quirk of her brow.

"She fired me."

"What?!"

"She canceled the whole thing, she really didn't tell you?"

"Obviously not, I'm sitting in an empty-"

"Well, she canned me, so."

"Why?" Mary asks softly, probably about the kiss, most likely about the kiss and Mary kicks herself, she knew she shouldn't have told her. She knows Catherine, she knew she wouldn't just let it slide. There had to be a consequence for his actions- even if Mary played a part in it too.

"An anonymous sexual harassment complaint." He says dryly, "I wonder who did that."

"Louis-"

"You don't have to explain. Really, I shouldn't have kissed you, I shouldn't have flirted with you. I just couldn't help it. I never thought you'd actually go this far to get rid of me though, you could have just asked me to leave. Kind of feels like you stuck a knife in my gut."

"That's a little dramatic." She says with an eye roll, "I didn't make the complaint, I swear."

"Then who did?"

"I don't know." She says softly, "I'm so sorry…Louis, I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Yeah well," He clicks his tongue against his teeth, "Maybe you should talk to your husband." He hangs up before she can ask what he meant by that. Francis wouldn't. Would he? She runs her fingers through her hair, starts the car, and leaves.

* * *

 _-6 Months Ago-_

Mary doesn't expect him to still be up when she walks through the door, but he is. Instead of greeting her with a kiss like he usually did when she walked in, he just stays on the couch.

"I thought you'd be in bed." She says as she shrugs off her jacket and kicks off her shoes.

"I thought you'd be home earlier." The tone he chooses for that sentence sours her mood further. She's tired, sore, and she really doesn't want to do this tonight.

"I had a lot of work to do." She says and he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn't. He bites his tongue like he always did. Sometimes she wishes he would just let it out, just tear into her like she knows he wants to, but he never does. Francis gets up.

"Well," He says softly as he walks over to her, "If you haven't eaten yet, dinner is in the fridge." He kisses her cheek, "I'm going to bed." She grabs him before he can mount the stairs, pulls him down to kiss her on the lips and he does but it's soft and quick. It's barely a kiss at all.

"You're mad at me," Mary says simply, pushing him back a little so she can walk past him.

"No-"

"Yes."

"I'm tired, it's been a long day." She makes a face as she heads for the kitchen. She's tired too, you don't see her taking it out on him.

"You didn't have to wait up for me. You could have gone to bed." She has no idea if he's following her as she heads for the fridge, his voice confirms that he did follow her.

"I saw you for ten minutes this morning." He tells her, "And we didn't even talk for most of it, I just watched you run around the house getting ready because you woke up late."

"Francis-"

"Sorry if I want to have a conversation with my wife once in a while that doesn't involve having to ambush her at work."

"I know it's been hard." She says as she opens the door, cold refrigerator air smacking her in the face, "Catherine has me working on some new project that's unbelievably time-consuming, I have a ton of meetings the rest of the week, and I had a boatload of paperwork that needed to be done yesterday. I'm trying-"

"And you've been with Louis." _There it is._ The fridge door closes with a slam, but she doesn't bother turning around.

"For _work_." She says, "How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"I know it's for work, that doesn't mean I have to like that you're spending all these late nights with your ex, Mary." She makes a face, she doesn't remember telling him Louis was her ex. She turns around, "Yeah, I _know_."

"He's not my ex." She says and Francis shakes his head.

"Were you dating him at one point?"

"Yes…"

"He's an ex." He says slowly, she rolls her eyes. She can't believe Francis is actually jealous of _Louis_. If only he knew. "Was it serious?" He asks as she brushes passed him, pulls her arm out of his grasp when he tries to stop her. He follows, it's not a good idea on his part because she's _seething_.

"Mary-"

"Francis, please." She says as she heads for the stairs.

"Did you sleep with him?" He asks and she scoffs. That's not really his business even if she _did_ sleep with him, they weren't together. He was in Paris. "Mary, answer me."

"How many girls did you sleep with in Paris? Since we're asking questions now." She snaps.

"One night stands are different from actual _relationships_." Okay, that hurt a little more than it probably should have. He never actually confirmed he was _with_ anyone else while he was living there and she never asked, they never talked about his time in Paris.

"Okay, great, good to know," Mary says as she looks away from him, eyes filling with tears because she can't seem to get the mental image of him touching some cute French bimbo out of her head.

"And none of them will ever magically end up here."

"Hm. _Great_." She swallows; he said _them_ , meaning more than one. He had more than one. "At least you had fun."

"Mary-"

"I'm going to bed." She says as she climbs the stairs.

"I'm not done."

"I am!" She shouts back and she doesn't see his face, though she's sure it mirrors hers, he's probably angry.

"Did you love him?" He asks and she wants nothing more than to rip his tongue out, just so he can shut up for a minute, "Does he still want you?"

"Stop interrogating me!" She shrieks, "I don't know."

"That makes me feel better."  
"Francis-"

"If you don't know if he still wants you, let's just assume that he probably does." He says and he's climbing the stairs now too, which has her pretty much jogging to get away from him. "I can't blame him for that, you're a damn _catch_."

"Leave me alone." She says, headed for their bedroom now, "Francis, leave me alone."

"Come back here."

"No."

"Mary-"  
"Why don't you call one of your whores in France, I'm sure they'd love to hear from you." She doesn't know why she says it, honestly, it just flies out of her mouth, she's never been the type to slut-shame other women, but Francis is _hers_ and she can't bear the thought of another touching him like she does. It makes him stop though, stops dead in his tracks and the bedroom door closes with a hard slam. She locks it for good measure, slammed doors don't stop Francis. It's not long after that she hears Anne waking up, soft cry coming from the monitor and then she hears Francis comforting her, and she gets a few moments of peace as she undresses and then tugs on one of Francis' shirts.  
She sits on the bed with tears streaming down her face, she's so mad at him she can hardly breathe. She knows now, knows that he didn't have the same problem she did. The reason she never let Louis touch her and Francis had no problem touching others. She wonders how soon it started.  
There's a knock but she doesn't move.  
"Mary," Francis says softly, he sounds calmer now, the knob twists, "You can't lock me out forever. Open up, come on."

"We have a couch, go use it." She makes no effort to try and hide the fact that she's been crying from her voice.

"Baby…" He says softly, "Please?" _Baby_. Did he call the others that too?

"Go away…"

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sure." She spats, "Please leave me alone."

"Mary, I shouldn't have…been so hard on you about Louis, I trust you."

"I'm really feeling the trust right now."

"Open the door."

"I never slept with him." She says, wiping her tears, which is no use because a fresh batch is cooking in her eyes right now and will surely fall in a minute, "I wouldn't let him touch me."

"Mary, you don't ha-"  
"He wasn't you. That's why he broke up with me…" She sniffles, "I wanted you, so badly, but you were gone and I thought it would help me forget you if I just went out with him but it only made me hurt more."

"Please open the door."

"I couldn't bear the thought of someone else touching me like you did and apparently, you were _not_ suffering from the same problem."

"Let me in and I'll tell you whatever you want to know, okay? Please."  
"I don't want to talk about it."

"Then we don't have to talk about it." He tells her softly, and she stands, "We don't have to talk about anything." She walks over to the door but she doesn't open it.

"No more interrogations."

"No more."

"No more yelling…"

"No."

"Promise?" She asks softly.

"I promise." He says, "Open the door, let me hold you." She twists the lock, pulls the door open slowly, and barely has time to brace herself before he's pulling her in. His arms going around her tightly as she presses her face in the crook of his neck. The door swings shut behind him and she jumps a little at the sound.

"I'm pregnant." It comes out softly, this isn't really how she wanted to tell him, but she needs something good right now.

"What was that?" He pulls back, "What did you just say?" But he heard her, she knows he did, his face lights up completely. " _Mary?_ " He smiles, hands go from her shoulders to her face and then his lips are hard against hers, "Really?" She nods. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"  
"You were yelling at me earlier."

"I'm sorry." He says, kissing her again, "I'm so so sorry-"

"Francis-"

"I love you." He smiles, he keeps kissing her, over and over so she has to talk between them.

"It's," _Kiss_ "Still," _Kiss_ "Early." _Kiss._ She pushes him back, "Are you going to let me talk?"

"No." He says simply and then he's lifting her up, carrying her to the bed.

* * *

 _-Present-_

Mary doesn't waste any time barging into Catherine's office, frustrated.

"Did you fire Louis?" She asks harshly, the woman doesn't even look up from whatever she's signing.

"Didn't have a choice, someone complained."

"Gee I wonder who." Mary folds her arms over her chest, "Catherine."  
"Do you really think you're the only woman he was pining for here?" Catherine looks up now, raises an eyebrow, "It's my responsibility to keep my employees safe." Mary gives her a look.

"Who wrote it?"

"You know I can't tell you that." She gives her another look, "Are suggesting that I wrote it? Please, that's just asking to get sued."

"Can I see it?"

"Be my guest," Catherine says, she already had it out, tucked under a folder, she hands it over. Mary looks it over, rolling her eyes, it's like she didn't even try. It's an exact account of what happened in Mary's office, the kiss, the harmless flirting. Mary knows Catherine's handwriting though and this isn't it. Some of the letters loop and curve the same way hers do and that makes Mary's stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Francis didn't write it," Catherine says because it must show on her face, but she knows who did write it.

"Who did?" She asks quietly, "Who wrote it?"

"It doesn't matter-"

"Claude." She says, yes. She knows her handwriting, she used to help her with her homework, used to check her rough drafts, she knows its Claude. "Oh my god, you _didn't_." Her face tells her she did, Catherine got her daughter to write a false report, kept it close enough to Mary's account so he couldn't deny it and used it as grounds to get rid of him.

"You weren't going to report him."

"There was nothing to report!"

"Like hell, there wasn't!" She's standing now, "Mary, for god sake, he kissed you. He put his hands on you. God only knows what else he wanted to do to you."

"Catherine, it was just a kiss."

"It starts out as a kiss, next thing you know I'm finding you bloody and torn on your office floor." She says and there's something hidden there, just under the surface and Mary feels her gut flip, "He had to go."

"He is not the same as the men who hurt you." She says it softly, carefully, slowly. Catherine only told her about it once, but she'll never forget.

"Well," She shrugs, "No use in arguing over this. It can't be undone. He shouldn't have touched you and if you can't see that, maybe he wasn't the problem."

"I didn't want him to kiss me," Mary says softly.

"Then why are you in here fighting with me about it?" She asks simply, heading back to her desk and sitting down.

"Because I just spent months working on a project that won't even be finished in time." She says because she and Francis missed out on so much with each other because she was working all the time, which caused arguments and tension and stress.

"We're not having a banquet this year."

"Are you serious?" Mary asks, and more work on Mary's part gets tossed out the window, an email would have been nice. A heads up would have been fantastic because she _just_ sent invites out.

"Yes." Catherine says, "Oh darling don't look so annoyed."

"Can't." She shakes her head, "I'm annoyed."

"Consider this a break."

"Couldn't give me a break when my marriage _wasn't_ crumbling around me?" She asks dryly, raising an eyebrow. Catherine sighs.

"Mary," She says, "I know I've been working you to the bone and it's been difficult."

"Mhm."

"But that's only because you're good at your job." She's standing again, crossing the room to her, "And, you're like a daughter to me."

"What...uh...whatcha doing?" Mary asks as Catherine, good god, _Catherine_ ; pulls her into a hug. It's over as quickly as it started and then she's brushing Mary's hair back behind her ear.

"I...appreciate you." She says softly and Mary blinks, it looked like it was physically hard for her to get that out.  
"Oh?" Mary questions, "Is that code for something?"

"Mary-"  
"Like you might...love me?"

"Don't push it." She says, but there's a little hint of playfulness there that has her thinking maybe she did mean that.

"You love me." She teases, "Yoouuu give a damn about me."

"Stop that."

"Oho, I knew you were capable of compassion."

"Stop it."

"Oh, and it's Valentine's Day, how symbolic of you."

"Did you want me to fire you too?" Catherine asks with a quirk of her brow and Mary smiles, she rolls her eyes, "Out with you." She says as she waves a hand dismissively.

"Bye, mommy." She says and shuts the door before the wadded up piece of paper Catherine threw can hit her in the face.

Her phone is ringing by the time she gets back to her office and she doesn't look who it is before answering, still laughing a little about what just happened.  
"Hello?"

"Hey." Francis says, "What are you over there giggling about?"

"A conversation I had with your mother."

"Oh?"

"Mhm." She hums as she digs through her bag, "Thank you for the flowers." She says softly.

"Did you like them?"

"I love them."

"Good." He says softly, "What are you doing right now?"

"About to write up a cancel notice and send it to two hundred people."

"Sounds boring, I have a better idea." He says and she bites her lip, it's Francis, she almost expects something explicit.

"I'm waiting."

"Have dinner with me." He says softly, and she blinks.

"What?"

"Have dinner with me." He says it slower this time like she's hard of hearing; she thinks maybe she might be.

"What about Anne?" She asks softly, "I don't have anyone who can-"  
"I'll take care of that."

"Francis."

"If you're hesitant because of the other day and...Well, the last time we were in the same room as each other. I understand." The last time they were in the same room as each other was the morning they woke up together. "It's Valentine's day."

"Are you asking me out?"

"Go on a date with your husband." He says, "You know you want to." She _does_. She really, really does.

"What time do you want me?"

"All the time?" He says.

"You know what I meant."

"Around seven."

"Okay." She says softly, and then he hangs up and she's left smiling like a crazy person as she opens her computer.

 _-/-_

Francis texts her a few hours later as she's getting ready to leave her office. He has to cancel. Her heart plummets to her stomach. Lola is out of town and if Narcisse can't have Lola today, Francis can't have Mary today. He's been summoned, probably for something minuscule.

 **Francis:** " _Should I be concerned that my boss wants to spend Valentine's Day with me?_ "

 **Francis:** " _Listen, love is love and everything but I'm spoken for._ "

 **Mary:** " _Please say that to him._ "

 **Francis:** " _Would love to, but I also like getting paid._ " She smiles, he's in such a good mood, he's definitely feeling better and she wants nothing more than to see him today. Apparently, he didn't relay the message to Greer, who he recruited to watch Anne tonight, she's having a sleepover with Rose; because when Mary went to pick up Anne from daycare they told her someone already picked her up. That's how she ended up dialing Greer in the daycare parking lot, sad and just really wanting her baby.

"Mary-"

"Can I come and get Anne?" She asks softly, "Francis must have forgotten to tell you he canceled."

"Uh." She says, "No."

"Why am I asking permission? She's _my_ daughter, I'm coming to-"

"Mary" Greer says quickly, "Go home."

"Greer, I want my baby." She says softly as she climbs in the car, tugging her seatbelt in place. Greer sighs.

"Mary." She says her name firmly, "Go, and I cannot stress this enough, _home_. Anne is fine." That ended with a click and then silence and Mary makes a face as she starts the car, it doesn't hit her until she's getting ready to turn out of the parking lot. The realization, making her head spin and her heart speed up.

His car isn't there when she pulls up and that dampens her excited mood a little bit, hands shaking as she twists her key in the lock and goes inside. The lights aren't on, the house is dark, and she frowns. Maybe she misread things.

"Francis?" She questions as she climbs the stairs, phone buzzes in her pocket.

"Hey, you." Francis' voice hits her ear and she smiles.

"You're here aren't you?" She asks.

"Where?"

"In the house?"

"I might be." He says and she shakes her head, "But where?" She checks the storage closet in the hall, flicking the light on. She checks rooms, but she can't find him.

"Can I have a hint?"

"Not how the game works."  
"Oh, we're playing a game now?" She asks, "What do I get if I win?"  
"I don't know." He says, "Some candy?"

"I was hoping for something a little less PG."

"We'll see." He laughs and she bites her lip, "I like that shirt on you." She spins around, looking around but she doesn't see him. The fact that he can see her though is freaking terrifying.

"You can see me?"

"Mhm."

"Where are you?" She asks softly, pouting.

"You have to find me." He tells her, "Come find me." She can hear the smirk and when she does find him, she's smacking it right off. She goes in their bedroom, let's out the loudest shriek when he grabs her, only making her scream more when he clamps his hand down over her mouth.

"Sssssshhhh, it's me, it's me!" He says in her ear and she turns in his arms. "You're going to make the neighbors think I'm killing you."

"Then don't grab me like a damn serial killer!" She scolds, she's still shaking, but she smiles after a beat as he reaches to flick the light on.

"I had to come out. You were taking too long."

"You could have given me a hint."

"That's no fun." He says softly, stepping back and she sighs. He looks better, there's more color to his skin now and he doesn't look like a walking zombie. She reaches, he's still a little warm but it's nothing like before. "You look tired."

"I'm not." She says softly, brushing his hair back, "You lied to me."

"I did."

"Rude."

"I was on the roof by the way." He tells her, "In case you thought you won. Honestly, where did you think I'd be?" Right, the roof would have been the best guess. It should have been her first guess because that's where she would have gone.

"The roof."

"Mhm." He hums, "I want to show you something." He smirks and then he's grabbing her arm and tugging her towards the window.

* * *

A/N: Listen I know it's the day after Valentine's day and I'm late to the party BUT I hope you like this update, it's pretty long so I'm splitting it in two.


	6. Chapter 6

_-Present-_

There is a pile of blankets and pillows and wine chilling on ice. He's watching her now, waiting for some kind of reaction.

"Francis," She says softly, "You didn't have to-"  
"I wanted to." He links his fingers with hers, starts tugging her towards the little bed of blankets and pillows and she's pretty sure all the blankets they _own_ are out here. Must have been a funny sight, seeing him drag all of this on the roof, she wonders if the neighbors saw him. The thought makes her laugh softly.

"What?" He asks.

"Nothing...just," She smiles, "Imagining you dragging all of this stuff through the window." He smiles.

"I had a little help."

"From who?"

"A very little helper." He smirks and she gapes.

" _Anne_?" She asks, "You didn't have her on the roof did you!?" She shouts, "Francis, she could have-"  
"I didn't!" He says but she can tell by his face, "For...long."

"Francis!"

"I was watching her."  
"It's cold and icy and she can't walk very well in the snow and you had her on the roof, she could have fallen and broken her head open and-" He puts his hand over her mouth, she was talking so fast he probably didn't catch any of that.

"Sssshhh." He shushes her, "Calm down Mama bear." He smirks, "Charles was here too and she wasn't allowed out here if she didn't hold someone's hand, but she wanted to help and it's too hard to say no." Francis removes his hand from her mouth, "Are we okay now?"

"What if he let go!?"

"He didn't."

"Okay, but what if he did?"  
"I don't know because he _didn't_."  
"Fraaanncciiisss-"

"She's fine, she had fun." He tells her, toying with a strand of her hair, curling it around his finger, "I took her to Greer's after and then waited here for you."

"How much sugar did you give her?" She asks, squinting at him because she knows Francis and _no_ isn't in his vocabulary when it comes to Anne.

"So much." He smiles, "We should probably pray for Greer."

"Oh my god." She puts her head in her hands, but she's laughing, "Francis, you have to say no sometimes." He doesn't say anything, just laughs softly. It's quiet now, not really sure what to say but he's just looking at her, toying with that one strand of her hair. He reaches, pulling a blanket over them.

"So," He says softly.

"So." She whispers, "Francis, I have to tell you something." She says after a beat and his eyes flick back up to her, tensing a bit. "It's not...bad." She says quickly, "Okay It's bad, but you won't think it is."

"That made no sense." He smirks as he leans back, wedging a pillow under his head, "Do tell me this bad but not bad, but still bad thing." He tugs on the back of her shirt, a gesture for her to lay down too and she does, slowly, pulling the blanket up more.

"Your mother fired Louis." She says softly and he makes a face, "I...know you don't like him-"  
"Husbands tend not to like men who try to force themselves on their wives."

"He didn't-" She sighs, no use in arguing with him. "Okay."

"Do you think I had something to do with it?" He asks, "Mary, if I had a hand in it, he wouldn't have just gotten fired."

"I know you didn't." She says softly, "I just feel like…"

"It's not your fault, Mary, he shouldn't have touched you."

"But all that work I just did, that I've been doing, the last several months is all for nothing." She sighs. He doesn't say anything, brushes her hair out of her face. "The banquet got canceled too, which is equally as frustrating."

"I know." He says softly, "I'm sorry, Mary." She shrugs, shivers as the breeze picks up and he pulls another blanket over, tightening it around them.

"I think this romantic rooftop thing we have going on could have waited until it was warmer out."

"You don't like it?"

"No, I like it!" She says quickly.

"You were right before," He says after a few beats and she gives him a confused look, "We went too fast, we didn't get a chance to talk about everything that happened, we just went back to how things were before." Is this it? Is this a resolution? Are they finally going to talk about everything?

"Before Paris." She says softly, "I shouldn't have said our marriage was a mistake."

"No, you really shouldn't have." Francis sighs, "But I get it. I know you didn't mean it how it sounded." He shifts, "They keep trying to get me to go back."

"What?" She asks, tensing. Maybe not a resolution, maybe he's trying to tell her he's taking Anne and going back to Paris and she'll never see them again.

"I throw out the letters so you don't see them." He says softly, "I'm not really sure how many more times I'm going to have to say no. Don't look so scared, Mary, I'm not going back, not without you."

"Do you want to?"

"No." The answer doesn't even have to be thought about, there's no hesitation and he's one hundred percent serious, "Not even if the President asked me to go."

"I think you wouldn't have much of a choice-"

"Don't care, still wouldn't." He smirks.

"Was it that bad?" She asks softly, did he hate it that much? She thought he loved it, why else would he stay there for two years?

"No." He says, "the job was fine." He shrugs, "But I was a wreck over there, really. I'm surprised they want me to come back."

"A wreck."

"A goddamn mess, Mary."

"It couldn't have been that bad if you had a different girl every night." She's mostly joking, but she remembers that fight. She remembers how he admitted he was with several other people over tension and angry words and she remembers how bad it _hurt_ to know that. It still hurts.

"God, I'm sorry." He breathes, buries his face in her neck, "I'm so sorry...I shouldn't have told you that."

"It's fine…"

"It isn't."

"Francis, I always assumed you had others while you were-"

"Yeah, but at least in assuming you had deniability, now you don't even have that." He says, voice muffled by her shirt. "I love you, I love you, I love you." He says between applying soft kisses to her neck. "And I love loving you."

"Francis, stop." She laughs softly, but she tilts her head so he can keep going, a soft sound escaping her lips when he tugs the skin connecting her neck to her shoulder between his teeth before trailing back up.

"Why?"

"Neighbors." She says pointedly, the window is right across from them, though a bit of a stretch away, they'd still get quite the show if they peaked out.

"I can see why that would be a problem." He says, still covering her neck with his lips, only now his hand has joined the fun; fingers itching below fabric, tips drumming on her ribcage. He's not stopping, "However, it becomes less of a problem if they aren't home and I don't see a light on, do you?"

"Um...no."

"Then there's no reason to stop." He whispers hotly in her ear and she wonders if this is a good idea. They're separated, they're trying to be civil, they're okay right now but what if tomorrow they aren't? Is he going to realize what he's doing and pull back like the other morning? If he doesn't what does this mean? She's the one pulling away despite how badly she wants to actually go through with it.

"Francis…"

"What is it?" He asks, he hasn't removed his hand from her skin, rests warmly now on her waist. He's stopping her from pulling away completely, from sitting up, so she just lies on her back and looks at the stars. "Mary?"

"I want to."

"There's a but in there somewhere."

"You're going to leave…" She says it softly, closes her eyes so she can't see his face, he won't come home and this won't change the fact that he's still angry and he'll be angry for a while. He doesn't say anything, just grabs her chin and gently turns her face towards him and before she can say no, his lips cover hers.

* * *

 _-6 Months Ago-_

They've been driving for an hour now and he still won't tell her where they're going. Mary watches out the window as blurs of trees and houses turn into blurs of highway signs and traffic, crosswalks and pedestrians, fast food places and stores. Then she feels it, an odd feeling in her stomach that has her straightening in her seat.

Uh-oh  
She is going to _throw up_.

Her hand comes down on Francis' thigh, dangerously close to his crotch and she squeezes, _hard_. It gets his attention without her having to speak and threaten to spew her stomach contents in his lap. He jumps.

"Whoa!" He shouts, "You have my _undivided_ attention, my love." She squeezes her eyes shut, swallows, "Aim a little higher next time." He says sarcastically and she swallows again, willing her body to just _not_. Not here, she can't get sick here.

"Pull over." She chokes out, her stomach twisting and turning.

"What?"

"Pull over, Francis."

"I can't, I'm on the h-"

"Pull over, pull over, pull ov-" Mary clamps a hand over her mouth, internally begging her body to keep it down until he can pull over or she can at least find something to throw up in. She feels it rising up the back of her throat now and she hears Francis talking to her, trying to get her attention, but she can't hear him because she's focusing so hard on not-

It gets everywhere before she realizes it happened. It's in her lap, on her hands, on the floor, in her _hair_. She heaves until there's nothing left because when it starts it doesn't stop.

"Oh, Mary," Francis says softly, rubbing her back gently.

"I'm sorry…" She says, her words clipping on a sob, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" She cries, she wipes at her eyes, "Your car...Francis."

"It's okay." He says, trying to focus on the road and on comforting her, "It's okay, Mary. Don't worry about the car. Are you alright?" She nods as she cries and she hates that she did this. He's too good, too good to her, she's sure anyone else would be yelling at her right now. "Check the glove-box, I think there are some napkins in there." He says and before she can reach for it, he's tugging it open. "Do you see any?" He asks and she sifts through old papers and random receipts, junk that's just thrown in there but there's nothing that would be useful, not to his vomit covered wife.

"No…" She cries, shaking her head, she gags again but that's mostly because she's crying so hard right now.

"Are you going to puke again?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" He asks softly and she shakes her head because she isn't sure, he just reaches over to rub her back some more, trying to calm her a little.

"I found some mints…" She sniffles after a while and he laughs softly.

"Okay." He whispers, "I'm going to see if I can find somewhere to stop and maybe get you cleaned up." His hand doesn't leave her as he looks. It takes nearly twenty minutes before he's finally turning down a road and finding a parking lot to stop in. She's calmed down some now, still sniffling a little and he doesn't say anything as he gets out.

"Francis?" She questions, he tugs her door open, reaches to undo her seat-belt, and she does it again, _on his arm_.  
Oh god, she hates herself so much, cue the waterworks.

"Francis…" She cries.

"It's okay." He says quickly and then he's taking his jacket off, setting it in the back and then he's kneeling down, "It's alright, come here." He says softly, grabbing her legs and turning her towards him, "Let's get this off of you."

"Where are we?" She asks as he reaches, he tugs the hem of her shirt up and helps her gently pull it off, leaving her in a cleanish tank top. He puts it in an empty grocery bag she wishes she knew was back there before.

"At a park." He answers softly, and then he's pressing a kiss to the top of her head before rising. She doesn't get to ask where he's going before he's gone. She hears the trunk pop open a moment later and then he's coming back after a few minutes. "We're in luck, babe." He says as he comes back with an unopened pack of baby wipes, one of his hoodies, and a towel.

It takes a while to get her somewhat cleaned up, and Francis sets the towel on the floor for her. She stopped crying a little while ago, still sniffling a bit though as she tugs the hoodie over her head. She jumps when he's in front of her suddenly as she's busy scraping the vomit off her pants where she missed it.

"You okay?" He asks softly as he brushes her hair back behind her ear and she nods. He kisses her forehead, and then her cheek but for obvious reasons, he doesn't kiss her lips. "How about this little nugget?" He asks, hands going to her abdomen and she smiles.

"I think everything's okay."

"You think?" He says, "Do you feel okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I just want a bath."

"Okay," He says, "I'll take you home, you can get a bath and lie down."

 _-/-_

The day started out fine, she spent most of it apologizing profusely for projectile vomiting all over his car the day before, to which he would shake his head and remind her that she can't control it. She doesn't deserve him, he even stopped her from cleaning it up herself.  
Because he loves her and he just wanted her to relax and not worry.  
She didn't start feeling weird until the afternoon, but she decided it was something she ate earlier and not something that needed to be worried about. It was just mild cramps, barely even cramps and she got them with Anne so she thought it was normal, there was no blood, no spotting, no pain. Not until she went downstairs in the middle of the night for something to drink and could hardly move because the pain in her stomach was so bad, she had to stand down there in the kitchen with her glass of water, screaming for Francis, she's pretty sure she woke the neighbors before him.

Now they're here. Mary stares out the window, watching the cars go by, slow at first but then the traffic begins to build with the morning. It's only four thirty, still dark outside and it's colder than it was the other day.

"Mary," Francis is next to her but he sounds so far away, sitting in the driver's seat, looking at her. She doesn't turn her head, she just wants to go home. She doesn't want to be in this parking lot, at this hospital. She wants to go home and go to bed and pretend this didn't happen. "I'm going to call off today." He tells her, "I won't tell Narcisse." Lola might, she might have to. He'll have questions about why she was called to watch Anne in the middle of the night. No one was supposed to know, not yet, but Lola knows now.

"Mary." He says her name again, "Come on, look at me." He reaches for her, takes her chin between his fingers and gently turns her head towards him. He looks at her fondly, like he always did, but there's a sadness there now. "It's normal...common." It doesn't feel normal, one in three pregnancies end this way if the statistics are right. That's what she focuses on. She swallows.

"We can try again soon." The words make her turn her head, a soft sound escaping her throat, they did tell her after a few weeks when her body no longer _thinks_ it's still pregnant they can try again. They said the sooner they did, the better the odds. She doesn't want to, not right now, not soon.  
Maybe not ever.

"I don't want to try again." She tells him, voice hoarse, soft. She's not even sure he heard her.

"Mary-"  
"I don't want to try again." This is said louder, on a snap, harsher than she intended but he drops it and she doesn't move to fix it, doesn't move to apologize, puts her head against the window and closes her eyes.

"Talk to me." He says softly, "Mary, please-"

"Can you just start the car?" She snaps again and he does with a heavy sigh, pulling out of the parking lot. "I love you…" She doesn't know why she says it, after how much she's snapped at him, she doubts he wants to hear it, but she feels like she should tell him.

"I love you too," Francis says softly and then he's reaching for her hand and she holds his fingers loosely. She doesn't deserve him.

* * *

 _-Present-_

The kiss leads to them stumbling around the bedroom, gasps between kisses, between giggles, the slow shedding of clothing. Her shirt is the first to go, but he takes his time with the rest. Her fingers are shaking as she unbuttons his shirt, only making it halfway before the backs of her knees hit the edge of the bed. Next thing she knows, her back bounces off the mattress with a soft yelp and he laughs softly when she reaches and he steps away, out of range.  
 _Tease_.

He takes care of the rest of his shirt, tossing it somewhere in the corner of the room but he still doesn't come to her.

"Impatient as ever, I see." He says with a smirk and she glares when she sits up, "What's that look?" He doesn't move as she scoots to the edge, reaching, fingers snagging his belt.

"Come here." She says as she tugs him forward and then he's standing in front of her.

"Hi." He smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear, toying with her bra strap, snapping it against her shoulder. "How was work?"

"I don't want to talk about work."

"No? What do you want to talk about?" He asks with a tilt of his head. He's messing with her, like he always did. She shakes her head, she presses a soft kiss to his hip.

"Please don't leave." She says softly, she hopes he doesn't go, if they do this she hopes he stays. He's pulling her up now, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks and then her neck but he doesn't reassure her that he is staying and that makes her stomach twist. "Francis…"

"Sssshh." He shushes her, hands on her hips as he tugs her closer, lips on hers before she can say anything else, capturing her in a long slow kiss that makes her dizzy. She responds eagerly, fingers in his hair now, tugging on his curls and she barely notices he's easing the zipper of her skirt down slowly, it pools on the floor a moment later.

"Lie down." He tells her softly and she sits, which elicits a laugh from him, "That's only half right." She stands up with a smirk, "Now you're just messing with me."

"You mess with me all the time."

"Hm." He hums, "Lucky for you," He says softly as he takes her arms and wraps them around his neck, "You're not that heavy." She doesn't have time to react before he's lifting her up and dropping her on the mattress.

"Francis!" This time he doesn't waste time climbing over her, kissing her softly when he finds her lips. It all speeds up after that, neither one of them talk now, or joke, he kisses his way down her body and Mary loses all ability to form words.

 _-/-_

She wants to ask him if he's staying, though she knows he probably won't answer. He hasn't been answering her all night, which means it's probably a no. So, she just lies there, drawing circles on his chest with her fingers, propped up on her elbow, a fresh sheen of sweat covering both of them. She's happy, it's the first time in months she's been this happy. He's here, in bed, whispering soft kisses in her skin and it's not at all the route she thought tonight would go. She certainly didn't think they'd be in bed together by the end of it.

"I miss you." He says softly, "I don't remember the last time we were able to just lay together."

"It's been a long time." She whispers, "I miss you too. So much, Francis." He smiles a little, "Anne misses you too." His smile grows at that, blue eyes shining as he looks up at her.

"I'm sorry I had to cancel our dinner plans."

"You've more than made up for it." She tells him with a smirk and he laughs quietly, sitting up, catching her lips gently and she doesn't hesitate in parting them, warm tongue against her own. She loves this, she does, but she can't help but feeling like it'll blow up soon. They stay like that for a little while, breathing each other in, hands exploring and then he pulls back.

"We have so much to talk about." She says softly as he tucks a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. He sighs.

"I know." He says, "later…" He tells her as he lies back down, "In the morning. I want to stay like this for a little while longer."

"In the morning?" She questions softly and she doesn't know if his pout is because of her questioning, or because she pulled the blanket up to her chest to cover herself.

"Yeah." He says, making a face, "What did you think this was, a hit and run?"

"I just...figured you'd leave."

"Do you want me to go?" He asks softly and she shakes her head.

"No!" She says quickly, "No, please don't. Please stay…"

"You're cute when you beg."

"Francis-"

"I'll stay." He tells her, pulling her down to his lips for a quick kiss and then he's sighing heavily, toys with a strand of her hair. She smiles, but then she's throwing the blanket back, she plucks his shirt off the floor.

"Where are you going?" He asks as he sits up, "Hey, don't get dressed." She doesn't say anything as she walks over to the window, it's still open, cold air spilling in the room and causing shivers down her spine. She closes it with a thud and then turns the light off too before heading back to the bed and curling up to Francis' side.

"That's better." She mutters. It's quiet now, she just focuses on the way Francis' fingers caress her spine. She doesn't know what's going to happen now, if this is some quiet resolution and they're going back to how things were before. Or if this is temporary and they'll eventually go back to shouting and screaming at each other. She knows they need to talk, they need to talk about a lot of things. She knows it'll be unpleasant, but it's something that needs to happen.

Mary sighs as she presses herself to him more, his breathing has steadied, he's asleep. This is probably the most comfortable he's been in months. She pulls the blanket up more to cover him since the cold from the outside hasn't subsided yet and then she's snuggling more into him, falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat hitting her eardrums.


	7. Chapter 7

Francis isn't there when her eyes open, her hand reaching out and meeting cold sheets, meaning he left their bed hours ago. She squints at the clock, it's only ten thirty. Mary sighs loudly, a sad feeling settling itself in her stomach, she should have known last night was too good to be true. That he wouldn't come home officially, nothing is fixed, nothing _will_ be fixed until they can sit and talk about it.

She lies there for a few minutes before deciding to get up, throws the blankets back and pads downstairs. She doesn't see him or hear him, his shoes aren't by the door.  
He isn't here. The sad feeling in her stomach gets heavier, twisting and turning and making her uncomfortable.

She screams loudly when she runs into someone turning in the kitchen.

"Good morning to you too, damn!"

"Francis!?" She shouts, clutching her chest as she tries to catch her breath, gasping. He's looking at her like she's insane. "I thought you left."

"You thought wrong." He smirks as he reaches a hand out to pat the top of her head, "Silly Mary, I was about to come and wake you." He tells her as his hands find her waist and he's guiding her to the kitchen. "I had some very filthy things in mind." He whispers that in her ear and she's about to ask what when she feels the edge of the table digging into her back.

"What are you doing?" She asks, but he doesn't answer, he just eases her up onto it.

"Greer called, she said Anne is still asleep but we can get her whenever."

"We?"

"Yeah?" He questions, "Well, I suppose just you, Greer will probably have some questions. Your friends are very nosey."

"They're your friends too." She tells him as she plays with a strand of his hair, "Let me down."

"No."

"Please?"

"No." He whispers, lips barely a breath away from her own and she only realizes after she lurches forward that _that_ is exactly what he was wanting her to do. He doesn't waste any time deepening it, locking her in a kiss that makes her dizzy as she clings to him, legs going around his waist tightly, fingers in his hair. She's missed him but, oh, she's really missed _this_. She smiles against his lips, she barely notices his fingers climbing up her thigh, fingertips barely touching her skin. When they reach her back, he pushes her closer to him a little rougher than he meant to, the action making her gasp.

He keeps the merging of their lips slow, a dull simmer like they have all day; but then he's pulling away and stepping back.

"Okay, go get dressed." He tells her and she blinks at him.

"No." She says.

"No?"

"No." She says again, this time grabbing him and pulling him back to her, not giving him time to react before she's pushing his lips back to hers.

 _-/-_

He's there when she picks up Anne and brings her home. Her daughter's tiny fingers reaching for him as soon as she sees him and...that's really that. Anne probably wouldn't notice if Mary burst into flames as long as Francis is here.

She's doing the dishes as she listens to him talk to her, seated at the table, watching her eat her apple sauce.

"Can I have a bite?" He asks her, poking her side.

"No." She tells him and he scoffs.

"No?"

"No."

"Can mommy have a bite?"

"No."

"Why?" He asks with a tilt of his head, poking her side again. "Sharing is caring."

"Mine."

"Well," He says as he stands, "I'll remember that next time you want something of mine."

"No, you won't," Mary says dryly.

"You're right, I won't." He smirks as he kisses the top of her head, but when she realizes he's walking away from her, she makes a pitiful noise as she reaches for him, "Just a second, sweetie." Mary laughs, but quickly swallows it when he grabs her by the waist and spins her around, successfully pinning her between him and the counter.

"You." He says with a grin.

"Me."

"I want to take you out tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Yes."

"Where?" She asks softly but, okay she knew he wouldn't answer that. He just smiles as he presses a soft kiss to the tip of her nose.

"Just say yes."

"No, I don't know where-"  
"Mary."

"Francis."

"Say yes." He says again and she sighs heavily.

"We need to ta-"

"Mm, almost darling yes starts with a Y."

"We should really talk-"

"I know, I know, but first I want to spend time with you so," He says, "For the love of God say yes." She opens her mouth, laughs when he makes a face because it's Francis and he knows she's going to protest a little more.

"Fine." She says on another sigh, "I'll go...out with you."

"Gonna need a little more enthusiasm than that."

"Yes," She smiles, "Better?"

"No, but I'll take it."

* * *

 _-4 Months Ago-_

They don't talk about what happened, not much. They went about it thinking if they pretended it didn't happen it would hurt less and now, two months after the fact, he's acting like it almost didn't; while Mary's pregnancy app tells her the baby would be the size of a lemon today. But there's no baby, so no lemon.  
There's nothing.

She stares at her phone screen as she brushes her teeth, reading about all the things she can be expecting with her lemon baby. He'd be able to squint, move his little arms and legs. Mary would have been showing by now, the tiniest of bumps. There's nothing but flat stomach when she touches it though because she's not pregnant anymore.

"Hey," Francis' voice makes her jump, causing her to shove her own toothbrush right down her throat and her phone clatters to the floor as she coughs and spits into the sink. "I'm so sorry." He's trying not to laugh as he rubs her back. "Are you okay?"

"Fine." She says as she wipes her mouth, "No-" It's too late he's already picking up her phone from where she dropped it on the floor, the app still open. His amused smile fades when he sees it but he doesn't say anything as he hands it back to her, just presses a kiss to her cheek and then he's turning to leave the room.  
"I was going to delete it.." She tells him, "But...I couldn't bring myself to…" Francis stops, turns around and he just looks at her.

"A lemon, huh?" He smiles sadly.

"Yeah." She whispers it, tears hitting her eyes; if he keeps looking at her like that she might cry enough to fill the bathtub, "Our little lemon." She cries softly and then he's heading for her, arms going around her body tight, let's her bury her face in his neck. This is the first time she's cried about it since it actually happened, told herself so much that if she pretended it didn't happen, then maybe she could convince herself that it didn't.

"Oh, baby, I know…" He whispers, rocks her gently, "It's okay, it's alright." She can barely hear him over her own soft cries, he'll have to change his shirt after this, but he doesn't let her go. He just holds her tight, shushes her, soothes her. This is the most contact they've had in two months, physical or otherwise.

She wouldn't let him touch her after. She doesn't even know why, it wasn't just sex, it was simple basic touching, like a kiss to the cheek that would make her pull away. She's never felt more disconnected from someone in her entire life and it kills her. She pulls away after a little while, wipes at her eyes as she turns back to the bathroom sink.

"Mary-"  
"I have to…" She sniffles, running her hands over her face and running them under warm water, "Get ready for work, Francis." She tells him softly, voice hoarse from crying as she tries to swallow it down.

"Can we talk later?" He asks with a sigh, looking at her so sadly, "If you're not home too late, I mean."

"About what?" She asks as she walks out of the bathroom, checking the time. She regrets asking it, she knows what he wants to talk about. Their baby that should be the size of a lemon, that should be squinting and moving around in her stomach. He gives her a look and then just shakes his head.

"You know what, nevermind." He says softly.

"Francis!" She calls for him as he walks away, turning down the hall to head for Anne's room.

"You have to get ready or you'll be late." She hears him call back and that's the end of that. She gets ready and she leaves.

 _-/-_

Mary doesn't come home until later, house dark when she goes inside, she kicks off her shoes and tiptoes upstairs. She goes to Anne first, hasn't seen her kid all day, pulling her blanket up more, strokes her cheek. She smiles when she stirs, stretching but she doesn't wake and then she's heading to their room. The door is cracked but it's dark, she hears his soft breathing as she tiptoes inside, closing the door with a soft click. She tries to be quiet as she changes into one of his shirts and a pair of leggings and then she's sliding in bed.

"It's late," Francis tells her, voice soft, he doesn't turn to her though, stays facing away from her.

"I know what time it is." She sighs as she lies down, he turns now, reaching for her. She scoots a little closer so he can drape his arm over her waist, toying with the hem of her shirt. "Sorry." She says softly.

"I didn't expect you home early, Mary," Francis mutters. She has no idea if he meant that the way it sounded but she doesn't say anything. "No reason to apologize."

"Francis-"  
"I love you." He tells her, "I feel like you don't know that."

"I know…" She says softly and it's quiet for a little while, she hardly expects the next thing he says, but she feels like maybe she should have.

"I want another baby." Her stomach flips and she looks up at the ceiling, "Mary-"

"I heard you."

"I know we haven't talked about it since...but I thought I should tell you." He says softly, "I can't stop thinking about it, but if it's too soon. I can wait, Mary. We don't have to-"

"No, I…" She shakes her head, "It's been barely two months, Francis."

"Which is why I said we can wait, I can wait."

"But you don't want to wait."

"Mary-"

"What if I can't?" She asks softly, "What if...after Anne the doctors said it might be harder...what if I can't have another one?"

"You got pregnant once, you can get pregnant again."

"No, but what if they keep dying?" It flies out of her mouth, she looks at him and he looks at her. God, there's too much sadness in this bed. It's almost suffocating.

"It was one time-"  
"Hm. One time." She says, "Does it matter less?"

"That's not what I meant." He says, voice taking on a tone she doesn't recognize but she looks away from him, so she doesn't see his expression, "Of course it matters."

"Doesn't sound like it does, then again you didn't have to walk around for four extra weeks of morning sickness, mood swings, and cramps because your body still thought it was pregnant, so why would it?"  
"That is _not_ fair." He snaps, he's sitting up now, "It was my baby too, Mary."

"I don't want to do this right now."

"Oh, what you make a comment like that and suddenly you don't want to do this right now? Really?" He asks and then he gets up.

"Where are you going?"

"To go look for my wife, I seem to have misplaced her." He says, "There's a cold woman in my bed and she wouldn't like that."

"Francis."

"If you need me I'll be downstairs." He tells her and then he heads for the door, but the soft little cry that escapes her throat gives him pause.

"Francis, please don't go…" She cries, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"We made that baby together and I know I can't possibly begin to understand what that must have been like for you physically, but you don't get to decide that it didn't kill me to see you like that, that losing it didn't matter to me because it did, Mary, it did."

"I know, Francis, I know...I'm sorry." She reaches and he climbs back in bed with her, he wipes her tears and he holds her while she cries.

 _-/-_

It's a week later, a nice day out and they decide to go for a walk. Anne is with Catherine all weekend, she doesn't get to see her that often so when she does she usually spoils the little thing to death. They're doing better now, since that night. He hasn't brought up another baby since though. She lets him touch her, only a little, still a bit of distance there, but they're working on it.

Halfway through their walk, however, it decides to rain, _hard_. He tightens his grip on her hand and starts to run, she barely keeps up, but he keeps his hold on her fingers and by the time they get inside the house, they're both soaked and dripping wet.

He smiles at her as he tosses a towel her way, using another to dry his hair. By the time she gets the towel off of her face where it landed she sees Francis lifting his shirt off and wringing the water out onto the floor. And okay, she should definitely be scolding him for wringing it out on the living room floor but she's too busy staring at the water droplets clinging to his skin, rolling down his chest and down, down, down.

The man looks so good soaking wet, he should probably be arrested. It's not fair, she's going to _actually_ pass out.

"Francis." She says softly and he looks up with a soft "Hm?" And she doesn't realize she's doing it until she's doing it, all she knows is she needs him...like _yesterday_. Her lips are on his before she realizes she moved, hard, hot, needy and he makes a surprised sound but doesn't stop her. He returns it with just as much fire as she gives.

"Okay." She says softly, pulling back for a second and he gives her a questioning look, "Let's try."

"Try, what?"

"Let's have a baby." She whispers it, soft, like the words are made any less impactful with the volume at which they're said. She thinks she means it, she feels like she does. She was waiting for the closeness, the fire, that stupid spark and here it is. So they should try. Right?

"Yeah?"

"Yes." She says, and he smiles as he closes the gap between their lips, this meeting of mouths is softer, slower and he runs his fingers through her soaked tangled mess of hair. It's only after when they're lying together that she realizes she probably shouldn't have said that, she probably shouldn't have suggested it because now her stomach twists with uncertainty, she knows she isn't ready. She knows, but Francis, he's pressing warm kisses to her skin and looking at her so fondly.  
She can't change her mind, she can't backpedal, so what the hell is she supposed to do now?

* * *

 _-Present-_

He doesn't say anything as he drives, hand warm on her thigh, Anne is sleeping in her car seat. She has no idea where the hell he's taking her, he hasn't talked since they left the house.

"Francis, we should find time to talk." She says softly but he shakes his head. "Francis."  
"I hear you." He says, "And as I said before, we'll get to it, but right now I am taking my two favorite girls to dinner. So, hush now, talk later."

"Hush now, talk later?" She questions, quirking an eyebrow at him, "What if I don't want to hush now?"

"Well, Mary, I can't make you do anything you don't want to do but I _can_ tune you out." He smirks, "So, say whatever you want, I won't be listening."

"Francis."

"No, no, don't Francis me."

"Francis."  
"Stop." He says, "We had a good day today, don't ruin it with your worrying." He tells her softly and she leans back in her seat, decides to drop it for now. They'll talk eventually, it's not like Paris, they can't let this go undiscussed.

"We did have a good day."

"Yes and if I'm remembering correctly, you had a _very_ good morning." His hand leaves her thigh to grasp her fingers, tugging her hand so he can press a kiss to it and then he keeps hold of it as he drives.

"Maybe." She smiles, earning a smirk from him because he knows damn well how good her morning was. Her fingers leave his to travel to his hair, it needs to be trimmed. Even though she likes it this long, likes her running her fingers through it, so unfair that his hair is softer than hers. She's too busy toying with it to realize the car has stopped and he's pulling the keys out of the ignition.

"Oh, we-" She's interrupted by his lips, pressing softly against her own and when he pulls back, she tugs him back to her. It was over too quickly, but she has to be careful, their child is in the backseat.

"Playing with fire, my love." He teases when he pulls away, running his thumb over her bottom lip. "Save that for later." She rolls her eyes, but smiles. "Okay, wake her and I'll go get us a table."

"Okay." She says softly as he gets out.

 _-/-_

It feels like it has been ages since they've been able to do this. Since he's been able to joke with her, but he smiles as he helps Anne color on her placemat, a stack of empty plates in the middle of the table.

"Okay, princess." He says softly, "What color is this one?" He asks, holding up a crayon, just barely out of her reach and he pulls it back just a little when she almost gets it, tiny two-year-old fingers reaching desperately.

"Mine." She says and he squints at her.

"I believe the answer we were looking for was blue." He says with a tiny smile but he hands it over anyway. "Our child only knows the word mine, we failed baby."

"She's two, Francis." Mary giggles as she watches her. "And she knows plenty of other words." She smiles.

"You're right." He says, "She really likes to say no." He smirks, "Which will come in handy when she's older and boys, who will never be good enough for her, start sniffing around."

"Francis, she's going to date."  
"Hm. No." He smirks, running his fingers through Anne's curls, and then he's looking at Mary.

"What?"

"You're so pretty," He says, "I am going to make _unashamedly_ loud love to you later." And she damn near spits out her water.

" _Francis Valois_ there is a two-year-old sitting next to you!" She scolds, trying really hard not to laugh, though she's sure her face is a million different shades of red right now. He's about to say something else but his phone rings.

"I have to take this." He says softly, he picks up Anne and sets her in Mary's lap, handing her another crayon before walking outside. Mary distracts her the best she can, if Anne noticed he left, she doesn't show it. She's too busy playing with the crayon he gave her.

"Mary?" A voice questions and she straightens in her seat. She knows that voice. It's Louis and she looks around to make sure Francis is outside. She doesn't know what he'll do if he comes back and Louis is over here.

"Uh...what are you-"

"Job interview." He says, looking at Anne with a sweet smile, "Is this your daughter?"

"This is Anne." She tells him, eyes darting to the door when someone walks in, thankful it wasn't Francis. Anne makes a soft sound, turning to bury her face in Mary's neck and then she's standing. "I can't…" She says, "I can't talk to you."

"You can talk to whoever you want." He says it like he's offended for her, as if Francis forbade her of it or something, "He can't control who you have a conversation with."

"If he comes back and you're where you're standing right now I really don't know what's going to happen." She says and it's not to be threatening by any means, she genuinely doesn't know what he'd do and there's a lot of people here. And she cannot afford to bail her husband out of jail. She's grabbing her things now, not bothering to tug her coat on, they were about to leave anyway so most of it's already gathered and ready. "I'm sorry I indirectly got you fired."  
"Oh, so it was you."

"I'm gonna go now." She says softly and then she's headed for the door, getting halfway to the car when she realizes he followed. "Stop following me!" It's a loud snap, honestly, does the man want to get his ass kicked? Anne makes whines, it turns into a cry as Mary turns around.

"She dropped her toy." He says slowly as he hands over the little plush bunny. He tries to hand it to Anne but she just buries her face in Mary's neck again and cries louder. She doesn't like strangers. Mary takes the bunny, shushing her softly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he's interrupted.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing?" It's Francis, he's between them in a flash. "You need to back up."

"Francis, we're fine," Mary says quickly.

"Do you get off on harassing women because that's all you've been doing to my wife since you got off the plane."

"Okay," Louis scoffs, "It's not like I knew she was coming here."

"Guys." Mary says, "Francis come on…"

"True but you chose to follow her out into the parking lot."

"Because your kid dropped something and I was giving it back."

"Francis." She tries saying his name more sternly.

"Mary, take Anne to the car, please."

"No."

" _Now._ " That's a snap, harsh, he gives her a look but he soon goes back to Louis and Mary doesn't move.

"Do you bark orders at her like that all the time or is it just for show?"

"Excuse me?"

"She's a woman, not a dog." He says, "You should treat her with respect." Oh, he shouldn't have said that.

"I'm sorry, can you just go ahead and explain to me how...shoving your tongue down her throat and holding her there when she was clearly uncomfortable, was respectful?" Francis tilts his head, genuinely curious and Mary steps back, still trying to soothe Anne.  
"I apologized for that."

"He apologized." Francis looks at Mary, "As if that makes his tongue any less forced down your throat."

"Francis, can we please just go?" She pleads and he almost, almost, goes to the car with her but Louis decides to open his mouth again.

"I may have done some questionable things but at least I didn't leave her." He says, "Twice, but who's counting?" Francis turns back around, "If she were mine nothing in this world would make me want to be away from her, _nothing_." He doesn't say it to him, he says it to Mary.

"She isn't yours. She's mine." Francis tells him, "And I should break your hands for even thinking about touching her."

"Oh, I think about touching her plenty." Oh, no. He's doing this on purpose, he wants Francis to do something.

"Francis, please." She pleads, reaches for his hand with her free hand but he's way too pissed now. "Please, please I want to go home."

"What did you just say?"

"I think you heard me." It happens too quickly for Mary to intervene, a fist meets a jaw with a crack, followed by a grunt and Francis tells her again to get in the car as more fists meet more body parts. She doesn't argue this time, tucks Anne's head in her chest as she heads for the car, making sure her screaming child doesn't accidentally see her father and some stranger beating the hell out of each other in a parking lot. Oh her baby is going to be scarred for life.

"Stop it!" She screams at them as she sets Anne in her car seat, positioning her body to make sure she can't's see. They don't hear Mary.

She really hates men right now.

"Anne, baby, look." Mary smiles as she grabs for the pink elephant plush on the floor. "We were looking for this!" She gasps, trying to distract her. She looks over her shoulder, rolling her eyes because this always seems to happen. First Francis and James and now Francis and Louis.

She shrieks though when she sees Louis is armed with a glass bottle. The sound tearing through her throat, another tearing through her when he slams it over her Francis' head. That makes them stop, that and the owner of this fine establishment, who runs out to stop them. She closes Anne's door as Francis comes up to them, shaking glass out of his hair, she's surprised he's still standing.

"I'm sorry, that was stupid." He's saying, "And immature, and good god never scream like that in my presence again-"

"Are you okay!?" She asks cupping his face, "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine." He says softly, kisses the tip of her nose, and then he's looking past her. "Oh, my poor baby." He coos, heading for Anne.

"Francis, give me your keys." She says, reaching her hand out, "Now." He does, giving her one last apologetic look as he heads for the car.

* * *

A/N: Sorry this took so long. Also if there are any errors, I apologize. Thanks for reading :)


	8. Chapter 8

_-Present-_

Francis insists his head doesn't hurt but she makes him put ice on it anyway, much to his dismay. "Does it hurt?" She asks him as she reaches to look at the cut on his cheek a little more closely, looks like Louis got a few good hits in.

"Not really."

"What are you going to tell Narcisse?"

"Nothing." He says, setting the ice pack on the coffee table and turning to her, she makes a face.

"You can't just show up to work like that."

"If he asks I'll just tell him you threw a remote at me again."

"That was an accident." She pouts, "I apologized." He knows that. He just smiles at her as he leans back against the couch cushions. It took a while to get Anne calm enough to go to sleep, she's surprised she didn't just wake back up. Francis is looking at her like he wants to say something to but he doesn't and she sighs.

"Are you mad at me?" He asks softly and she makes a face, "Be honest."

"No."

"Mary-"  
"I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at Louis." He makes a face when she says his name, "He could have killed you."

"Let's not be dramatic."

"I watched him smash a bottle over your head, I can be as dramatic as I want. You're lucky he didn't split it open, you could have a concussion."

"I think I'd know-"

"Or a brain bleed."

"I'm fine." He tells her calmly, "No brain bleed."

"What if you go to sleep and then don't wake up?"

"I wouldn't object if you wanted to keep me up all night." He smirks, waggling his eyebrows at her and she rolls her eyes.

"No, you're injured."

"Only a bit of me."

"Francis."

"What?"

"You're bleeding." She says quickly, grabbing a tissue. "Hold still."

"Yes, ma'am- _ow_." He gives her a look when she presses the tissue to his cheek, the cut reopening all of a sudden. She should have taken him to the hospital.

"Sorry." She eases the pressure a little, "Is that better?" She asks softly.

"I'm sorry."

"For bleeding?"

"No, for tonight." He says, "Well, sorry it happened in front of Anne but not that it happened."

"Do you feel better?" She asks, "About...Louis?" He makes a face, "Everything…"

"Define everything."

"Francis."

"No." He tells her, serious now, "I thought I would but I don't feel any better about it." She pulls back, toying with a clean tissue, "When I think about how he touched you, it makes me so angry. Mary, he isn't a small guy it could have been so much more than a kiss, it wouldn't take very much for him to...hurt you."

"He wouldn't do that." She says softly and he really wouldn't, she knew him once.

"I hope not." He says, "There's nothing in the world that would be able to stop me from bashing his skull in with a tire iron."

"Violent."

"Only when it comes to you." He smirks, "I don't know if you know this but you're kind of my everything."

"I thought I moved down your list."

" _Please_ , you'll always be number one."

"After Anne." She smiles, "Francis."

"Hm?"

"Louis can have his thoughts." She tells him.

"Not when they're of you."

"You can't make him stop thinking it."

"No," Francis clicks his tongue against his teeth, "But I can bash his skull in with a tire i-"

" _Francis_."

"Fine." He sighs, grabs her wrist to pull her hand away, but she keeps it there. "You watch one season of _Grey's Anatomy_ and suddenly you're a doctor."

"Stop talking."

"No."

"You're an annoying patient." She mutters, presses the tissue down more and it makes him hiss, which makes her feel bad so she pulls her hand away. It's not bleeding now at least.

"Darling no offense but I think you should work on your bedside manner." They both look up when they hear something from upstairs.

"The creature is stirring." He whispers. Anne does this thing where she climbs out of her crib and stands at the top of the stairs if she knows they're downstairs, and just _yells_. Francis finds it hilarious, though it's made for some _interesting_ moments. Thank god she doesn't venture down some nights, she might see something she shouldn't.

"She probably wants you," Mary tells him, he's already getting up and she stands too.

"Jealous?"

"Maybe." She pouts and he smirks as he takes her hand and pulls her upstairs with him. Anne is standing in their room, sleepy eyes and messy hair, but when she turns to them, she walks right by Francis and heads for Mary with her little arms out.

"Oh my god, she actually wants me!" Mary shouts excitedly, barely able to contain it as she picks her up, "Yes, come to mommy."

"The sting of betrayal hurts worse than the bottle."

"Jealous?"

"Maybe," Francis says, but he smiles anyway as he presses a kiss to Anne's hair.

* * *

 _-2 Months Ago-_

Anne's birthday party stretched later than they had planned and she's surprised there's anything left of the cake with Francis' brothers in attendance. The house is kind of a mess, it could have been worse, Anne wasn't too interested in the presents, her and Rose mostly ran circles around Bash- the only person in the world it seemed to make them both leave Francis alone, _mostly_.

"Anne was asleep before I even got her in the crib," Mary says as she comes down the stairs, Francis barely acknowledges that as he picks up discarded plates and cups, tossing them in a garbage bag. He's been acting weird, halfway through the party he got kind of distant from her, and now he isn't even looking at her.

"Francis?" She questions as she walks over, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He tells her, it isn't very convincing and she frowns. She's pretty sure she didn't do anything tonight to upset him, she thought everything was fine. Something tells her she shouldn't press the issue, but who would she be if she didn't?

"Francis, tell me." She pokes his arm, "I thought we were having fun?"

"We were."

"If you put the bag down we can have more fun." She smirks but he doesn't react to that, just keeps picking up trash like he didn't hear her. "Am I talking to a wall?"

"Mary, it's late, you should get some sleep."

"Not until you tell me what's wrong." She says softly, walking back over to him but he doesn't say anything to her, he's tying the garbage bag off and setting it by the back door in the kitchen so it can be taken out. She follows him.

"Mary, I am warning you, drop it." That's a snap and she drops the playful manner and picks up a different mood, this one not angry but not happy. More so slight panic than anything else, as she searches her brain to find out what she did or said to him today that warranted the need to be prickly with her.

"Francis…" She says softly watching him walk back into the living room, following slowly now as he picks up a blanket and lays it over the back of the couch, "What did I do?"

"I don't know, what did you do?"

"You won't tell me." She says dryly and he turns around to look at her, digging something out of his jacket pocket.

"You want to tell me what these are or should I just go ahead and assume?" He asks as he tosses the circular package on the coffee table, landing with a smack. Okay, the slight panic turns into major panic and her stomach twists.

"Francis-"

"Because they _look_ like birth control, but that wouldn't make much sense, what with us trying to have a baby and whatnot." He raises an eyebrow at her, "Nevermind the fact you have never taken them for as long as I've known you. So, either they're really weird looking Tylenol and I'm reading too much into it, or you've been lying to me. So which is it?" She opens her mouth but nothing comes out so she closes it. He waits, folding his arms over his chest.

"Did you forget how to speak?" He asks, "Mary?"

"I'm sorry…" It comes out softly and he exhales slowly, her basically admitting it wasn't what he wanted to hear, she knows that but she can't really lie and say they're not what they are. He used to take Leeza to get hers without Catherine finding out, he knows what they look like. He runs his hands over his face, laughs softly.

"Oh my god, Mary..." He says softly, "What...why? _Why_?"

"It was too soon…" She says, "I didn't know how to tell you-"

"So your solution was to prevent it behind my back?" He asks, "Did you honestly think I wouldn't find out?"

"I don't know, I wasn't thinking-"  
"You thought about it hard enough to go get the damn things. Me finding out wasn't a thought? You telling me didn't cross your mind?"

"I didn't want to upset you, I-"  
"Is this not supposed to be upsetting?!" He shouts that and it makes her jump, tears hitting her eyes and she looks at the floor. He picks the packet up, "You should have told me you didn't want...You should have _said something_."

"I know."

"You know and yet you still didn't." He says and then he tosses them to her, "I can't believe you…"  
"Francis, I'm sorry."

"Oh, wow, I suddenly feel so much better about this, thank you." He snaps, he's obviously angry. She would be too, she can't blame him for that. He sits on the couch, holds his head in his hands, tries to process this.

"I'll stop taking them." She suggests softly, it probably wouldn't matter if she did or didn't, the way he's looking at her right now, she'll be lucky to get a hug out of him anytime soon. "Francis…" She says, "I'll stop, I promise."

"Put whatever toxins you want in your body, Mary, but don't lie to me about it." She walks over to him, but he doesn't look at her, keeps his eyes on the floor.

"I'll give you a baby, okay? I promise, but I-"  
"Children are not bargaining chips. If you're not ready, you're not ready, but you have to tell me. This isn't a solution, this doesn't make it better." He says. She was going to tell him she's scared because she is, but she swallows it and just sinks down on the other end of the couch. He doesn't say anything else, he doesn't look at her, doesn't reach for her.

"We lost a baby." She tells him.

"Is that your excuse?" He asks. It's her reason, but she doesn't tell him that. She's not sure if it'll make him less angry.

"Do you even care?" She knows she shouldn't have said that the second she says it. Of course, he does. It was his too, he hurt too, he grieved too. But he wanted to try again so soon after it almost felt like it didn't happen like he was trying to convince her it didn't; if she got pregnant right after, they could almost pretend that it didn't. He looks at her now, incredulous expression.

"Of course I do." He says, "But there's nothing we can do about it, Mary. We can't just stand still."

"You can't force me to move on either."  
"I'm not forcing you to do anything." He says, " _You_ said you wanted to try again, the words came out of _your_ mouth, you changed your mind and didn't tell me."

"I felt like if I didn't, I might lose you." There's a little truth to that, they were drifting, she knew what he wanted, maybe that's why she felt like she wanted it too. Francis gets up.

"So now I'm pressuring you."

"I didn't say that."

"You might as well have." He snaps, "Mary, I get it. Yes, we lost a baby and that was awful and I never want to see you like that again, but it happened. The likelihood of it happening again is slim."

"You're not a doctor."

"No." He says softly, "I'm not. If I were I doubt you'd listen anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?" She's getting up now too.

"Nothing." He sighs, she can tell whatever he was going to say he doesn't want to say now, but she knows. She knows what it was, he doesn't have to speak and it nearly knocks the wind out of her.

"Are you saying it's my fault?" That comes out barely audible, the words clawing their way out of her throat. The doctor told her to rest, as much as she can but that's hard to do when she has a toddler and a demanding job and no one knew yet. She didn't rest as much as she should have, and her baby died, she's blamed herself since but she never told him. She thought he'd reassure her, tell her it wasn't her fault, that she did the best that she could.  
Apparently, she was wrong and he held the same resentment towards her.

The question changes his demeanor quickly, in a snap, he looks apologetic.

"No, Mary-" He reaches for her but she shakes her head, stepping back, hitting the couch and she sits again. She can't breathe. It feels like her entire body is caving in. She gets back up and heads upstairs, she doesn't lock the door this time. She wants him to be able to come after her if he wants because this hurts, it hurts so much, her body shakes with her sobs, she's sure he can hear even though she presses a pillow to her mouth to cover the loud sounds.

He doesn't come for her and it's one of those rare occasions slammed doors do stop him.

* * *

 _-Present-_

Anne is sleeping between them, Francis running his fingers through her tangled curls as she breathes steadily next to them. He's looking at her like she's the only thing in the world that matters to him.

"Can't believe I grew her for nine months for her to come out looking like you," Mary says and he laughs.

"Barely eight months but okay."

"Still."

"She looks like you." He tells her softly, "Have you ever witnessed her roll her eyes, spitting image, darling."

"Shut up."

"Inherited that lovely attitude of yours." He smirks, "Which should be fun when she's older."

"I guess." She says softly as she pulls the blanket up more to cover her. It'll be fun watching him try to navigate it. "Does your head hurt?" She asks softly and he shakes his head.

"I'm fine."

"Okay." She says, "Promise?"

"I promise."

"Because I can take you to the hospital."

"Mary, hush. Everything is fine." He says, reaching over to grab her hand and then he presses a kiss to the back of it. "Go to sleep."

"I thought you were going to make love to me?" She smirks and he sighs.

"Darling I don't know if you noticed but uh," He pulls the blanket back, Anne having tugged the covers over her tiny head, "There's a tiny human between us." He whispers, "Raincheck." Mary laughs softly as she snuggles closer to her baby. She's so little, in a few years she isn't going to want either of them. She'll be a moody teenager with the attitude she allegedly inherited from her mother.

"Why'd you come back?" She asks suddenly, she had been wondering what made him decide to come back, why he suddenly decided he wasn't as angry now. Or maybe he was but he was letting it go, she doesn't know. She knows they should talk about everything, calmly, no screaming or arguing, no blaming.

"I missed you." He shrugs, "And I know what it's like to grow up in a broken home. I don't want that for Anne. I never wanted that for her."

"Are you still...angry?" She asks and he doesn't answer that. He just looks at her, squeezes her fingers. Maybe none of it was ever fixed, maybe he still wishes he were away from her, maybe she read him wrong and he's only pretending to be happy for Anne. Isn't that what his parents did? Stayed together for the kids, it didn't end well, for anyone.

"Francis…"

"I love you." He says softly, "We should talk about this when Anne isn't in bed with us, okay?"

That doesn't ease her worry. He must see it on her face.

"We're okay, my love."

"Okay." She breathes and he smiles, it makes her feel a little better and she eases herself back down, Anne curling into her. Francis tightens the blankets around both of them, kissing Mary's cheek.

* * *

A/N: It's been a while, let me tell you why. I got the flu after uploading the last chapter, and then I got the common cold when I was finally starting to feel better, and then almost immediately after that, I got an ear infection. I'm the luckiest person in the world right now. Anyways, hope you guys enjoyed this, hopefully, I can update this relatively soon. :)


	9. Chapter 9

_-Present-_

"Francis are you sure you don't want to go see a doctor?" Mary asks for what feels like the thousandth time. It's been two days since the fight and the headaches have not relented. They started yesterday morning, lasted well into the evening and then started back up again today.

"No, I'm- _Anne_." He says her name particularly harshly and Mary glares at him when their little girls' smile fades mid squeal.

"Francis." Mary snaps.

"I'm sorry." He says softly, reaching for her but she frowns and goes to Mary instead. "Annie…"

"You yelled at her."

"I didn't mean to it's this damn headache."

"I'm taking you to the hospital." She says finally, deciding for both of them as she grabs her keys and looks for Anne's coat.

"Mary, I'm fine."

"You're obviously not."

"It's late, I'm not making you drive all the way to the hospital for a headache that's going to go away in a few hours."

"What if something is wrong?"  
"It's just a _headache_ , Mary." He says on an exasperated sigh, irritated and she shifts Anne on her hip, her own sigh falling out of her mouth. There's no use arguing with him, she can't make him go and she has to get Anne to bed anyways.

"Fine." She says softly, "Are you gonna come kiss Anne goodnight?" She asks, that's not even a question, he's already standing before it's all the way out of her mouth and she smiles because she wasn't sure if he'd be able to stand, let alone walk over to them. He tells her he's sorry for yelling at her and kisses her cheek and kisses Mary's too.

"You should go to bed," Mary says softly.

"Can't argue with that. I'll be up in a minute." He says as she climbs the stairs.

She finds him in bed a few minutes later and she crawls in as quietly as she can trying not to wake him. He was already awake though and he turns to look at her.

"Does your head feel better?" She asks softly, reaching over to sweep his hair out of his face, Francis shakes his head. "I wish you'd let me take you to the hospital."

"It's fine, darling, it's probably just-"

"The result of a glass bottle colliding with your skull?"

"I was going to say the weather."

"Hm. I don't think it's the weather." She mutters, moving over so he can put his head on her chest.

"You worry too much." He tells her and she hums her acknowledgment, fingers stroking his curls.

"You'll tell me if it gets worse, right?"

"Not sure it _can_ get worse."

"Francis." She pouts and he sighs, wrapping his arms around her torso.

"I'll let you know if it gets worse, which it won't because I'm fine."

"You promise?"

"I promise." He says softly. "Hey, Mary."

"Hm?"

"I forgive you." He tells her, voice soft as he snuggles more into her. "I know we haven't...talked about everything yet, but I do forgive you. I just wanted to let you know before my brain explodes."

"We can talk when you feel better, but thank you." She whispers, they do still need to talk. They both keep getting distracted, or things keep happening but she's happy to know at least he isn't still angry with her. "And your brain isn't going to explode."

"Feels like it might."

"Not if you see a doctor." She tells him, "If it's not better by morning I'll-"  
"No."  
"Francis, you're in pain."

"And you have several very important meetings tomorrow that my mother will murder both of us if you miss. So, no."

"I can reschedule."

"No, you can't."

"Francis."

"I'm okay." He says softly, "It'll be gone by morning."

 _-/-_

Francis doesn't have to work today, but he's usually up by now, so she's confused when she wakes up with his arms still wrapped around her. She twists in his arms so she can look at him, reaching to turn off her alarm clock.

"Francis." She whispers, pushing his curls back, "Hey." He groans, rubbing his eyes. He's really warm so it must be a fever. "It didn't go away, did it?" She asks and he shakes his head, she presses a kiss to his forehead.

"It's going away." He tells her, but he sounds so pained and that makes her stomach twist with worry. She should try to reschedule. Catherine would understand, she'd all but demand she stay home with him rather than come in, Catherine might even wind up coming over and trying to take care of him.

"I think I'm staying-"  
"No, you're not."

"Francis, you're sick."

"I'm. Fine."

"Please."

"I'm okay, Anne and I are just going to lay around and watch movies. Go to work." His face tells her he's not leaving this up for discussion and she gets up reluctantly.

"Call me if you need anything."

"I will."

"I'm serious."

"You always are." He's getting up too and he's wearing his smirk so that tells her he is feeling a little better. Maybe his headache was going away, but that didn't mean it was going to stay away. She feels his forehead and his cheeks, much to his dismay.

"You're warm." She tells him, "And you're sweating."

"Sweaty fever is a broken fever." He says pulling her close, "Go get ready."

She watches him smile with Anne on the couch as she digs her keys out of her purse. He looks better, less pale, he _says_ his head doesn't hurt. So why does she get the feeling she really should stay home today?

"You're going to be late and then you're going to be mad at yourself." He teases when he notices she hasn't left yet.  
"I don't want to go." She pouts, which earns her an amused grin as he walks over to her. He hooks her around the waist.

"I feel fine."

"For now."

"I'll show you how fine I feel later." He smirks, pressing soft kisses to the curve of her neck like _that's_ supposed to make her want to leave more. "I promise." She squints at him but he really does look a lot better now. So she nods and toys with her keys, giving him a quick kiss before she leaves.

* * *

 _-2 Months Ago-_

Francis hasn't talked to her since their fight. He hasn't tried to apologize either, she hasn't reached out. They mostly just avoid each other, she feels like she's living with a stranger. Louis is telling her something she assumes is important but it goes in one ear and out the other, she doesn't pay much attention to him. She just keeps filling out paperwork and turning the stack towards him when she needs his signature.

"Mary." He says her name but she doesn't look up, "Hey, are you still with me?" He pokes her with his pen.

" _What!?_ " She snaps as she looks up and he jumps.

"Oh, testy." He says, "What...what's going on?"

"Nothing." She sighs as she goes back to work but he doesn't take that as a suitable answer. So he presses on.

"Hm, no something's definitely wrong."

"Louis, leave it alone." She pleads softly, "It's none of your business."

"You've been acting off the last few weeks. Are you okay?"

"Please."

"Is Francis okay?" He asks, "Is Anne okay?" He asks as he leans back in his chair, genuinely curious and a little bit worried, her face changes slightly at Francis though and she hates that he notices it. "It's Francis."

"It's nothing."

"Did you guys get in a fight?" She doesn't answer, just keeps writing.

"We did. As do all married couples." She says dryly, "It was stupid, I did a stupid, stupid thing. That's all."

"What did you do?" He asks softly like he's genuinely curious and she meets his eyes for a second but doesn't say anything. It's none of his business and she doesn't need another person telling her how stupid the decision she made was. Although, it might nice to get another person's perspective.

"Mary?" He questions, "You'll find no judgment here." She sighs again and then just lets it out, all of it and he listens, adding commentary here and there and when she's finished he clicks his tongue against his teeth.

"The thought never occurred to you to just tell him?" He asks softly.

"I didn't want to upset him."

"And this wasn't supposed to-"  
"Thanks, _Francis_ , I get it." She said through gritted teeth as she stands. "I should go home, it's late." She doesn't look back as she leaves but he grabs her before she can.

"Wait, wait." He says quickly and she turns around with a glare, "Tell me why you did it." He says softly and she makes a face, "Maybe it'll help." She nods and they sit on her small leather couch and she tells him. She tells him why she did it, what she was thinking while she did it, why she felt like she couldn't tell Francis and he listens and there's no yelling or arguing or interrupting, he just listens and she feels like it's the first time anyone has done that in a while.

 _-/-_

She talked to Louis for too long, it's now hours passed the time she told Francis she would be home and her phone is dead.

The house is quiet but the lights are on and he isn't asleep on the couch like she was hoping. He's in the kitchen, she can hear him so she tries to be quiet as she slips her shoes off and heads into the kitchen.

"Glad to see you finally remembered where you live." He says without even turning around as he wipes down the counter, "Did you forget how to answer your phone?"

"It's dead, Francis." She says as she tugs the fridge open to get to the leftovers.

"Hm, that's convenient." She sighs as she grabs a plate, "You smell nice, is that new cologne?" There's an edge to that regardless if he meant it or not and she shakes her head as she tosses her plate in the microwave.

"Stop." She says softly as she presses the buttons.

"Are you too tired to have a conversation?"

"This doesn't sound like a conversation, Francis, I'm too tired to fight with you over nothing."

"You come home three hours late smelling like another man and I'm just supposed to deal with it?"

"What are you implying?" She asks softly because it sounds an awful lot like he thinks she let Louis take her like a thief in the night or something when that's not the case at all and it never was.

"What am I implying?" He asks but it's on a snap as he turns around, "You come home later and later with him all over you, you wanted to expand our tiny family and then suddenly you didn't. You were taking pills to prevent a-" He shakes his head, "What the hell am I supposed to think?" So that confirms it. He actually thinks she's sleeping with Louis and she's never felt more offended in her life and heartbroken that he would think she'd _do that to him_.

"Am I your wife or a whore?" She asks him softly.

"M-"

"I'm not sleeping with him. I never slept with him, I _don't want_ to sleep with him." She says, "I love you, I want you, I don't know how many times I have to tell you that." The microwave beeps but she leaves it and him in the kitchen to just go to bed because that took her appetite and tossed it out the window.

She hasn't been locking the door to keep him out, but he hasn't been coming for her. He sleeps downstairs and away from her, which is probably best right now. They're officially at the stage in the rough patch where they can't share a bed. She climbs in bed after changing and is just about to fall asleep when-

"Mary." His voice makes her jump and sucks in a breath, "You didn't eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"Mary." Her name leaves his mouth softly and not angrily like she had grown used to these last few months.

"Are you going to accuse me of sleeping with anyone else?" She asks softly, "Oh, maybe Bash, we haven't done _that_ in a while." He doesn't say anything and she doesn't turn over so she has no idea if he's still leaning against the doorframe or if he's retreated downstairs.

"You didn't eat." He says again and she sighs heavily.

"I will reiterate. I am not hungry-"

"You're my wife and I don't remember the last time you ate." He says that slowly and softly and she turns over to see he has her abandoned plate of food that's probably cold now. She swallows and then sits up.

"One bite." She tells him.

"Two."

"One and a half."

"Three." He says and she rolls her eyes but sticks her hands out for the plate.

"Fine."

* * *

 _-Present-_

Francis isn't answering his phone, he hasn't been all day. She hopes he's just sleeping but she takes her phone in her meetings so she can get it and make a quick exit should he call. He doesn't call, not for the four hours she spends listening to men try to tell her how to do her job. By the end of it she's pretty angry, one guy started listing off his coffee order before she could sit down. Another noticed her wedding ring and said he was jealous of whoever got to strip her out of her business attire after work. She's taking the _hottest_ shower when she gets home and makes sure Francis is okay.  
Sometimes it sucks being the only woman in the room.

"Catherine." She knocks softly on her office door.

"Yes?" She questions as the door open's, "Oh Mary, how was the meetings today? I'm sorry I couldn't join you."

"Well, I found out who drinks decaf." She tells her. Catherine scoffs.

"Men don't know how to handle powerful women, dear." She says dryly.

"I'm going home early."

"Is everything alright?" Oh boy, how does she want to play this?

"Uh yeah...Francis just has a thing." She stammers awkwardly.

"I gave birth to him, darling, I know all about his thing."

" _Ew_." She makes a face, "Not... _not_ what I meant, he has a cold or something."

"Is he okay?" She asks, full mom voice taking hold as she rises.

"He's fine."

"Then why are you leaving?" She squints. "Do you feel like he isn't?"

"Uuuhh-"

" _Speak_."

"No...no."

"Mary."

"I just really want to go home and take care of him." She says quickly, there that wasn't so hard. Catherine nods but she's giving her a weird look.

"Call me if you need anything." She says slowly as she sits, "And not a moment later." She nods as she closes the door, checking her phone as she walks to her office, she tries to call him one more time but he doesn't answer.

-/-

The sky is darkening up, deep orange in the clouds and she tries not to speed but she just has a bad feeling, she has a missed call from Bash which only makes the feeling worse. She calls him back.

"Is Francis okay?" He asks, "Because he's not answering my calls." Mary chews at her lip.

"He's sick, he's not answering for me either."

"Oh," Bash says, sounding like he understands. "Well he left some things at my place and I didn't want to just drop them at your doorstep. I don't want to bother him if he's sick so can you let me in?"

"Yeah." She nods, "I'm on my way home right now so we can meet if you go right now." She tells him, or he can get there early and find out what the hell is going on. "Bash I'm worried." The worry shows in her voice too, this doesn't feel _right_.

"On my way." He hangs up without another word and she finally gets a break in the traffic. In a few minutes she'll be home and able to wake Francis up from this fantastic nap he's taking. She keeps thinking about that fight with Louis and the bottle and she hopes whatever's going on with his head has nothing to do with it. As she turns on her street she catches something in her headlight, a tiny body with tiny legs and she's never hit her brakes so hard in her life. Tire screeching hard, steering wheel jerking, almost flipping the whole car _hard_.

"Anne!?" It comes out in a shriek, "Anne!" She throws open the door and runs to her. What the hell is she doing in the middle of the street? Where is Francis?

 _Where is Francis?_

"Anne…" She tries to calm her voice down, "Annie what are you doing out here?" She's shaking as she kneels down, Anne's screaming in a way she's never heard before and it's twenty seconds later that she hears more tire screeching.

"Mary?" It's Bash and Kenna, both looking at her and her screaming child in the middle of the road like two lunatics but then Bash sees the door is wide open and sprints inside the house. He knows Francis, he knows he'd never leave Anne _alone_.

"Mary come on." Kenna is easing them both away from the street, Mary pressing her child to her body like a lifeline. She almost hit her, what if she hadn't seen her? What if she didn't have her lights on?

She's headed inside faster than her legs can carry her because she needs to know what the hell Francis is doing and why the hell their daughter was in the street unsupervised and if he's okay, she doesn't know what she's going to do to him. Bash is in the kitchen and she hears him saying her husbands name over and over again and Kenna's the first to enter, a loud gasp leaving her lips.

"Mary, no." She says quickly, softly tries to keep her from entering the kitchen but she sees anyways.

"Francis!?" This scream is much like the one before but it rips its way out of her body, it shatters the walls. Francis is there but he's lying on the floor unconscious, Bash is trying to shake him awake but it's not working. It's _not_ working. "Bash…" Her voice isn't steady, Anne is screaming in her arms, Marys trying to push passed Kenna but she's stronger than she looks. He looks up at them with an expression she's never seen before.

"I…"

"Is he breathing?!" She cries.

"No." Bash tells her and in all her years of knowing him she's never heard his voice sound like that, he's completely terrified.  
Everything happens faster after that.


	10. Chapter 10

_-Present-_

It's been three days now and he hasn't regained consciousness but he's alive and his heart is still beating. The doctor told her to prepare herself, prepare herself for _what?_ They didn't tell her. The headaches had nothing to do with the fight with Louis, it's an infection that he's apparently had for a while, it would cause problems and then die down enough he thinks he's fine, only to flare back up. It never presented symptoms long enough to be cause for concern and the doctors can't locate it but it's spreading rapidly.

His siblings have taken over the hospital, they don't all need to be here but they are because it's Francis and he would do the same thing.

Mary and Catherine are sitting in one of the small leather chairs lining the hall outside his room and she hasn't let go of her hand for a second.

"I have to make some phone calls," Mary says softly, voice hoarse and body heavy.

"No, you don't." Catherine's voice is just as soft, Margot sleeping on the couch across from them, using Henri's leg as a pillow, his jacket draped over her petite frame. "You don't have to do anything right now."

"He has friends and old coworkers in Paris, I don't..we don't talk about it, we didn't talk about this. I don't know how to get a hold of them." The words are falling out of her mouth quickly, tumbling over each other, shakier than her already shaking body.

"You don't have to worry about that at the moment-"

"Apparently I do." That's a snap and she feels bad about it but doesn't try to fix it. Catherine just keeps her hand in hers and her other on her back, rubbing soothing circles in Mary's spine.

"Francis never told me about anyone he knew in Paris, but Bash might know." She says softly with a hard swallow, "But let's...just focus on this."

"I should have made him go see a doctor the first time he was sick."

"Don't do that."

"I'm doing it."

"Mary, he's a grown man you can't force him to do something he doesn't feel is necessary." She says, "You can tell him a million reasons why he should do something and he'll just come back with a million and one reasons not to do something. He's like his father on that front." She shrugs, "Must be a male thing." She whispers. She doesn't say anything to that and for a few seconds, it's quiet save for Margot's soft and even breathing and the soft, soft hum of a vending machine somewhere.

"When was the last time you ate something?" Catherine asks softly and she shrugs again, "Slept?"

"Ha." Mary laughs softly at that, she couldn't sleep even if she tried. "No."

"You should go home."

"No."

"You need to eat something, take a shower, get a change of clothes, maybe take a nap." She tells her, "Claude will drive you." She says and she didn't even notice Claude was there, having arrived later than everyone else and standing awkwardly beside them.

"I will?" She questions.

"You will."

"No." Mary speaks up, "No, I'm staying here."

"You haven't been home in days, Anne is probably very confused and we don't know how long Francis was lying on the floor, so she's probably scared as well. Go _home_. I will call you if anything changes." That's the end of the discussion, Catherine gives her a little shove towards Claude and the girl takes her arm. "Take your sister."

"She's-"

"A hospital couch is not a great place for a girl to sleep." Claude sighs but does as she's told, shaking Margot awake and telling her to come with her.

 _-/-_

The first thing she does when she gets home is take a shower, the hot water feels nice on her skin and she can hear Claude and Margot playing with Anne downstairs. Lola is somewhere in the house too but she didn't see her when she came in. Kenna is at the hospital with Bash and Greer is at home with her daughter, glued to the phone for updates. There hasn't been any for days now.

When she gets out, she brushes through her tangled hair and tugs one of Francis' shirts. It smells like him and that's a little comforting, she's checking her phone while she pulls on a pair of leggings but it's blank. Still no updates.

Lola finds her as she comes down the stairs.

"I made you something to eat if you're hungry."

"I'm not." She says softly but Claude throws her a look as she lifts Anne up and places her on her hip.

"I have been given orders to make sure you eat." Claude tells her with a smirk that mirrors Francis' when he knows he's right. She sighs as she follows Lola into the kitchen and is presented with a sandwich she cut into the shape of a heart for some reason.

"Cute." Mary says dryly as she's shoved into a chair, "Guys, I'm really not-"

"Anne, tell your mother to eat," Claude says as she sets the child in Mary's lap before walking away.

"Mama, eat." She tells her in her sweet little voice and even goes so far as to pick up a small piece of the sandwich to shove in her mother's mouth. She does that until it's gone, giggling the whole time, seems disappointed as hell that it's gone and she no longer has anything to force down Mary's throat.

The food settles uncomfortably in her stomach but she tries to ignore it as she toys with Anne's hair and tries to focus on something other than the fact her husband might die today or tomorrow or maybe a week from now and then it'll just be her and Anne and she doesn't know how to do that. She doesn't know how to parent without him, it was bad enough when they were separated, at least then she knew he'd eventually come back.

The fact she hasn't slept in over seventy-two hours is slowly working its way into the forefront of her mind and she blames that on the food and the shower. She stays up with Anne as long as she can before she feels like she might pass out and then she's handing her off to Margot and heading up the stairs to her room. It's only five o'clock and the sky is still light, she plugs her phone in the charger and turns the volume up as high as it'll go. She wants to make sure if anything changes she'll be able to hear when they call.

* * *

 _-1 Month Ago-_

Francis was already gone when she got up for work and had already dropped Anne off at daycare so she supposes she isn't seeing much of them today. He's not answering her calls, but she thinks maybe he's just busy at work, the same as her.

"Is he still ignoring you?" Louis asks as he tilts a water bottle to his lips and takes a drink, she doesn't answer.

"He's working."

"Never stopped him before." She rolls her eyes, "He's being an ass."

"Stop." She tells him softly, she doesn't care if it's true, she hasn't really been trying either. If anything this feels like the beginning of the end, but she doesn't dare voice that out loud and certainly not to Louis.

"He's not treating you fairly."

"Yes, because I'm the poster child of a good spouse." She says sarcastically, "He has valid reasons to be upset with me."

"It's been weeks and he hasn't talked to you."

"What do you care?" She snaps at him, "It's not your problem."

"Shouldn't be yours either but you're the one who married him." She shakes her head as she zips up her bag, "Mary, I'm just looking out for you. You need someone in your corner."

"It sounds an awful lot like you're insulting me." He makes a face. "Can we stop talking about this now?" He shuts up about it but throughout their time together her keeps stealing glances and she'd glance back with a questioning look and they would continue like that until the afternoon melts into the evening and she's grabbing her things to head home, happy that it's at a decent time for once.

"I just have a question." He says as she grabs her keys.

"What?"

"Do you love him?" He asks softly as he stands and she squints at him.

"Louis, you broke up with me because I was still in love with him, what makes you think that's changed?"

"You coming into work every day miserable because he decided to argue with you over nothing might have planted the seed of doubt in my mind, but I digress."

"Well unplant it." She tells him as she turns to the door, ready to leave.

"Wait." He says, but she sighs.

"Can you lock up when you leave, last time you didn't and the Janitor that sweeps the first floor is rumored to have sticky fingers-"

"Mary."

"What?" She asks as she turns around, annoyance on her face as she looks at him. It comes out of nowhere, his lips find hers without her even realizing he moved. She stills against him, not processing what's happening and when she does, he's already pressing her to the wall and trying to deepen it. She tries to push him, makes a pathetic effort to protest, the sound coming out her lips only seeming to encourage him.  
She gets a break, the universe allows that, and she shoves as hard as she can. He stumbles back but takes the hint and he's about to open his mouth to say something but they both turn their heads to see Claude at the door.

"Uh...I'm sorry, I was just um...looking for my mother." She says awkwardly, "Everything okay in here?" She asks softly and Mary nods, she doesn't trust her own voice and Claude turns slowly, shooting daggers at both of them with a final look over her shoulder. Then she's gone.

"Mary, I'm sorry, that was out of line." She doesn't say anything, her blood's boiling, "I misread the situation."

"What situation were you reading?" She asks softly, she brushes past him without another word, hoping silently that Claude doesn't say anything to Francis.

That's wishful thinking on her part.

 _-/-_

She doesn't go to work for the next three days, she doesn't want to see him. She just tells Catherine she's sick and leaves it at that. She'll be behind and that means Louis will be behind too but she doesn't have the stomach to care right now. The last few days she's tried to tell Francis but she's never able to get it off her tongue, she knows he'll be so angry that she confided in Louis and it led to him thinking she wanted him. That's what she did, she led him on without meaning to, somehow in their conversations, she gave him the impression she was trapped in a toxic marriage and she needed him to help get her out.

The house doesn't feel the same when she walks in it a week after the kiss and she knows, she just _knows_ that he knows because he hasn't looked at her like that since came back from Paris for the banquet with every intention to stay away from her.

"I need to talk to you." He says as she closes the door.

"Okay." She says softly, shaking as she climbs the stairs.

" _Now_."

"Can I say goodnight to Anne first?" She asks softly and he nods. Anne is asleep when she goes in, so she pulls the blanket up around her and strokes her little cheeks and watches her chest rise and fall with her breathing. She should get back down there, Francis isn't the most patient person in the world and he'll likely come to retrieve her if she takes too long. She goes downstairs to find him pacing and he stops when he sees her.

"Before I ask you this, I just want to tell you that I love you because if it's true I don't know how bad this is going to get." He says softly, "Claude said she walked in on you and Louis a week ago, is this true?"

"Francis-"  
"Is it _true_?" He asks that loudly, "I don't think my sister would lie to me but maybe she saw something and misinterpreted it." He's speaking quickly, words falling out of his mouth faster than she can hear them and she walks over to him. "Did you kiss him?"

"He kissed me." She says softly, "But I-" He shakes his head as he turns away from her, "Francis I-"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asks, he's not looking at her now and she just stands there. "A week ago, you have had _days_ to tell me and you didn't. Why?"

"I didn't want- I wasn't sure how you'd react, I don't want you to-"

"You weren't sure how I would react so you decided to keep it from me until I inevitably found out? This sounds familiar, Mary." He says, "You have been keeping important things from me for a long time now and I am tired of it. I am so tired of being blindsided by your poor decision making." She doesn't know what to say about that, so she just stands there and stares at the floor. He doesn't say anything else, but the more time that goes by the angrier he gets.

"You told me I didn't have to worry about him."

"I know."

"And here I am finding out he made a move on you." He says, "He kissed my wife and she didn't tell me about it, and I don't even think you were ever going to."

"I didn't want it." That comes out softly, tears filling her eyes, "I swear I didn't, Francis…" She cries, tears stream down her face and even though he's angry she didn't tell him, he does at the very least understand she didn't ask Louis to kiss her. So he pulls her in and he holds her in a tight embrace. "I'm sorry…"

"I'm going to kill him." He says it like he just decided that's what he was going to dedicate the rest of his life to, "I don't want you to see him anymore. I don't want you around him, please." She pulls back, seems the worst of it isn't over. Seems their embrace was short lived as she steps back and wipes at her eyes.

"I have a job, Francis." She clears her throat, "I can't just-"

"Are you serious?" He asks, "After what he did you're still going work these long nights with him!?"

It blows up after that, it stretches into the early morning, they swap shouts with each other like it's the reason they're breathing. It goes off the rails, he brings up every terrible thing she's ever done and every poor decision she's ever made and she does the same to him, and then some. She throws Paris in his face and they only stop because Anne's sobs cut through them both. She wonders, as she watches Francis try to calm her down, how long she had been standing on the stairs watching them.

* * *

 _-Present-_

Mary sleeps well into midnight, waking at three and finding a granola bar, a glass of water, and a note on her nightstand. ' _Claude and Margot are sharing your couch, Anne went to bed a little past ten and I had to go home to update Stephane and grab a change of clothes.' -Lola. 'PS If I come back and that Granola bar isn't eaten I'm telling Francis you weren't taking care of yourself while he was out of commission, love yooou.'_ She sets it back down and peels back the wrapper of the granola bar, taking small and slow bites until it's at least half gone. Then she checks her phone while she sips the water, once ice cold but now lukewarm and not very satisfying. It does the job though, keeping the granola down.

There's nothing, so that means he's still alive, but that also means nothing has changed either. She gets out of bed and pads down the hall to Anne's room. Where she finds her fast asleep and all sprawled out, little legs stretching one way and her arms another way.

"Anne." She whispers tugging on her foot gently, "Aaaanniiee." She says sweetly and she stirs, her little face scrunched up as she opens her pretty blue eyes. "Wanna come and sleep with me?" She asks with a tiny smile that widens when Anne reaches for her and she lifts her out of her crib and carries her to her room.

In the morning there are still no updates and Mary's anxious now to get back to the hospital but Claude is taking her sweet time in the shower. So, Mary sits next to Margot on the couch helping her with her homework the best that she can. Even though her brother is clinging to life in a hospital, that essay isn't going to write itself. Anne occupies herself with a cartoon on the tv and a bowl of cereal in her lap, she hasn't seemed to notice Francis isn't here. There have been a lot of people in and out of here the last few days so she may just be overwhelmed.

Once Claude gets out of the shower and Margot decides to stay and watch Anne, they're off to the hospital again, this time Mary is armed with a bag of clothes to change into and a toothbrush. She gives Anne a kiss on her cheek promising she'll be back as soon as she can and the little girl just keeps watching the tv. At least it's distracting her from Francis' absence for now. She hopes Margot knows what she's in for when Anne realizes she hasn't seen her father in a hot minute.

 _-/-_

Mary runs her fingers over the back of his hand and toys with his wedding ring as she listens to the soft beeping of the monitor and the hum of the ventilator that's helping him breathe. He's paler today, his skin is cold despite the fever that rages underneath. She's not listening to what the doctors are saying, she let Catherine handle them. She caught a bit of the conversation when she walked in, he is responding to medication. A good sign, finally. Now she just watches his chest rise and fall with his mechanical breathing. _In, out, in, out, in-_

"Mary, did you hear any of that?" Catherine's voice interrupts her.

"No." She says softly, "I wasn't listening."

"They found the infection and have started treating it."

"I thought his organs were failing." She says softly, isn't that why he's hooked up to all this stuff? His organs were failing and that means he's dying, right?

"They're going to take him off of some of it and see how he does."

"More waiting."

"Yes."

"Can't they just wake him up?" She asks, not even trying to hide the anger in her voice. It's been days now, she just wants him to be better so she can take him home and never ever let him out of her sight again.

"It doesn't work like that…" Catherine says softly, her voice showing that she wishes that were the case too, but it isn't. She reaches to tuck a golden curl behind his ear fondly. "He'll wake up."

"He better." She whispers as she leans down to press a kiss to his hand, she hates how cold it is. She swallows the lump in her throat. "When are they going to-"  
"Not until later." Catherine tells her as she sits down in a chair by the bed, "How's Anne?"

"Confused."

"Hm. You can bring her to the hospital, you know."

"I don't want her to see Francis like this."

The ventilator is the first to go, just so they can check if he can breathe on his own. Catherine holds her hand while they remove the long tube from his throat, the process making her squeeze Catherine's hand tighter and tighter every time he gags. Which is a lot, it looks and sounds like it hurts and eventually, she has to step out, whatever food she had been successfully keeping down this morning finds its way into the trash can in the hall.

"Mary!" It's Bash with a coffee in hand, walking up to her with a worried expression. She just keeps the steady stream of vomit going.

"Don't look!" She chokes when she feels his hand on her back rubbing soothingly up and down.

"I watched an infant come out of you, there's literally nothing in the world you could do that can gross me out." She wipes her mouth on her sleeve and then grabs his coffee, taking a drink and then making a face before promptly spitting it back in the cup, "Except _that_." He says as he scrunches his face in horror.

"Thanks." She swallows as she hands it back but he just holds it loosely in his fingers. "Where's Kenna?"

"I have no idea." He tells her honestly, "I think she's in the chapel. How's Francis?" She doesn't answer because Catherine walks over to them.

"He's breathing on his own now, we'll just have to wait and see how long it takes for him to wake up." She tells them.

"That's good to hear," Bash says and he almost takes a drink of the coffee Mary so rudely spit in but he remembers and makes another face. "You owe me two bucks."

"Can I put it on a tab?"  
"What? It's two dollars!"

"My husband is in a coma."

" _Fine_." He glares but it melts into a sympathetic smile, "He's going to be okay." Catherine sighs as she heads back in the room and Mary turns to go with her after returning his smile, letting him know Kenna is headed his way. The conversation between Bash and Kenna as they walk down the hall makes her laugh for the first time in days.

"Bash, why does this coffee taste like vomit?" She asks him as their voices fade down the hall.

"It's hospital coffee, what more do you _want_?"

"I want my coffee to not taste like someone up-chucked in it." She tells him and she can almost imagine Kenna's face as she says it. Mary goes back to her chair, goes back to toying with Francis' wedding ring and brushing his hair back. She just wants his eyes to flutter open, or for him to move just a little.

"Please don't leave me." She whispers that as she lays her head down on the bed, keeping his fingers tight in hers and just focuses on his soft breathing.

* * *

A/N: So, the next chapter is actually the last one I do believe.


	11. Chapter 11

_-Present-_

The worst part about all of this is the waiting, she's walked around this hospital enough the staff knows her by name. The doctors still don't have an estimated guess on when he'll decide to wake up and it takes everything in Mary not to violently shake him most days. She's just getting off the phone as she enters the chapel, that's where she finds Catherine most of the time. Today, her hands are not folded, she's not whispering a quiet plea, she's leaned back against the bench, looking at the large window behind a cross.

"Have you been home yet?" Mary asks as she sits next to her, keeping her voice down so she doesn't disturb the other few people here. Catherine's appearance answers the question for her. She looks tired, she's been wearing the same clothes for god only knows how long, her hair is up but still somehow messy, and she can tell by her hands the woman has been biting her nails. She won't judge, Mary doesn't look any better.

"I have not." She tells her, "All of my kids are here."

"True."

"How's Anne?" She asks softly, eyes turning to Mary and she shrugs.

"She just noticed Francis hasn't been home for a while." She says, "Greer has her."

"No one will fault you if you decide to go home-"  
"I have to stay here."

"You and Francis are the most stubborn people I have ever met." She says with a shake of her head, "When Anne was born and you had lost all that blood, getting him to leave you for more than five minutes was like fighting a losing battle."

"He looked worse than I did." She says softly, "He felt so bad he wasn't there when it happened."  
"Maybe next time it won't be like that." Mary makes a face, can the man _wake up_ first? She sighs. Next time, if there is a next time. The topic really hasn't been discussed since...everything, and would he even believe her if she told him she wanted to? Does she want to? She doesn't know, she hasn't thought about it much at all, she knows he does.

"I had a miscarriage." She tells her, she doesn't know why she tells her, she just realized she never did but that gives her Catherines full and undivided attention.

"What?"

"A couple of months ago."

"Oh." She says, "Is that...what happened?"

"No, I made some dumb decisions after." She says softly and Catherine doesn't ask for clarification on it, she just sits there and Mary decides she might as well tell her everything, it's over, for the most part, he came back home and she never thought to have another woman's perspective on it. And who better than Catherine? It took her and Henry years to have Francis and she's lost babies before, who better to understand than her? So she tells her what she did, how he reacted, how she knows what a stupid decision it was and she listens.

"You didn't tell me you were-"

"We didn't tell anyone."

"I…" She sighs, "I don't condone what you did but I get it. It's hard for men to understand the pain women go through when you lose a child you never got to hold. I just hope this doesn't make you never want to try again."

"You just want another grandchild."

"Can you blame me? You and Francis are my only hope in getting any."

"Don't sell your other children short. What about Leeza?"

"I hardly see her as it is, I'd never see her children."

"That's sad."

"It's also true." She tells her with a quirk of her brow, "That reminds me, I should call her."

"Does she know what's going on?"

"Probably not," Catherine says as she stands up, digging her phone out of her purse. "I'll be right back." She goes without another word and leaves Mary to sit alone in the tiny hospital chapel. She debates just getting up and leaving, going back to Francis but her phone buzzes.

 **Lola:** _"How is Francis?"_

 **Mary:** _"No changes."_

 **Lola:** _"Oh. :("_

 **Kenna:** _"He's gonna be fine, get that frown out of here."_

 **Mary:** _"Greer, is Anne better now?"_

 **Greer:** _"Just got her to sleep finally, but it might be worse when she gets up."_

 **Mary:** _"Do I need to come home?"_

 **Greer:** _"I think if you come home without Francis it'll be worse, so you should stay where you are. I got it."_

 _-/-_

She hopes he wakes up soon because if she has to sleep one more night in this damn hospital she's going to implode. She doesn't know what time it is, but it's still dark outside and she has no idea where Catherine went. The room is dark beside the lights from the machines and she can hear his soft breathing. She shifts in her chair and stretches to try and get more comfortable and that's when she feels his fingers tighten around hers and she sits up quickly.

"Francis?" She questions softly, searching to find a light.

"Don't get up." He says and his voice sounds hoarse, probably from the tube, and tired despite the fact he's been sleeping for days. He's awake though, awake finally, and alive. It takes everything in her not to climb in bed with him.

"You're awake!"

"Mhm."

"How long have you been-"

"I don't know." He says softly, "Is Anne okay, where is she?"

"She fine, she's at home." She tells him as she moves the chair a little bit closer, not letting go of his hand as she does it, smiling even though he can't see her, she can't see him. "She had a few meltdowns when she realized you hadn't been home in a while."

"How long?"

"A week…" She says softly as she reaches to brush his hair back and he doesn't say anything to that, they just sit there in the quiet. "She won't be able to leave you alone for a few days." Not that he minds that, he loves Anne even if she can be a little clingy. She should go find Catherine, tell her he's awake but she doesn't want to move.

"Mary."

"Hm?"

"When's the last time you slept?" He asks softly as he shifts on his side to look at her and she shrugs, she's slept some, though not well but she _has_ slept. "Come here." He says as he pulls the blanket back and moves over the best he can in that small hospital bed but she stays where she is, in her small leather chair.

"I-"

"Please."

"What if-"

"Mary." He pleads and she sighs, she wants to, but what if something happens and the doctors need to get to him? He's already pulling her forward and there's no arguing with him. She would like to sleep in a bed, as uncomfortable as it looks, in his arms after what felt like forever wondering if she ever would again. She climbs in the bed, let's him pull her to his chest and his fingers comb through the tangles in her hair.

"Francis."

"Hm?"

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"You know what." She pokes him and he sighs.

"You were right."

"Haha, I so was." She smirks, "You know if you so much as cough in my presence I'm shipping you to the ER right?" He laughs quietly as he pulls the blanket up around her.

" _Haha_ , go to sleep."

* * *

 _-1 Month Ago-_

"What do we tell Anne?" She asks as she watches him take some clothes out of his dresser and put them in a duffle bag, he doesn't answer, seems to be thinking about.

"I don't know, Mary." He tells her as she slides a drawer open, "She's two, I don't think she'd understand even if we did make something up."

"Well, we can't just not tell her." The thing with Louis happened weeks ago and this is the most Francis has spoken to her since, she's sure Anne noticed they weren't acting the same towards each other and she did walk in on them tearing at each other's throats, so maybe they don't have to explain anything to her, maybe she'll be okay.

"I don't know, then make something up." He says as he zips up his bags and checks his pockets for his keys.

"Do you have to go?"

"We've talked about this."

"You talked." She says softly, "I listened."

"Mary-"  
"I don't understand why you can't just-"

"Stop." He snaps, "You know why this is happening. We can't talk without ripping each other apart, it's better to leave now and come back when things cool down."  
"When will that be?" She asks as she follows him out of their room and down the stairs, the whole way he doesn't answer her. "Francis-"  
"I don't know, Mary." He says as he sets his bags down and reaches to grab his keys off the hook by the door, there isn't a rush, though he seems to be in a hurry to get the hell out of here. She follows him to the kitchen where he left his phone charger plugged into the wall and she doesn't say anything as he wraps the chord up, but he looks at her. "It's only temporary."

"I know."

"It probably won't be long."

"Right."

"I'll be back home before you know it." He says softly. That may be true, maybe he won't be gone for too long, she wishes he didn't have to leave at all. She can't help but feel like this may be the end of them. The start of the end at least, maybe he'll realize how fast all of this happened too and he'll regret it. He probably regrets so much already, regrets coming back from Paris for the banquet. He might wish he had told his mother he wasn't coming like he did the times prior, he might wish he had left her alone, that he didn't follow her back to her apartment that night. None of this would be happening if he hadn't, she wouldn't have gotten pregnant, they never would have made amends, they never would have gotten back together, he'd probably still be ignoring her.

"Francis."

"What?" He asks, she didn't know that he moved and she finds him in the family room by the door, thumbing through his phone, probably telling Bash he was on his way.

"Did you say bye to Anne?" She asks instead of asking what she wanted to ask him. Anne is asleep, being put to bed by Francis and then she'll be woken up by Mary. She'll probably cry when she sees he isn't here and she won't be able to calm her down, she never can.

"Yeah."

"Is that everything?"

"Mhm."

"Are you sure?" She asks softly, tugging at her sleeve and he looks at her, makes a face.  
"You're stalling." He tells her. She might be.

"I…" She looks at the floor, "I just don't...know what to tell Anne…"

"Tell her I had to go on an assignment for work and that I'll be back soon if it gets bad just call me." He says, "She's two, Mary. It'll be okay."

"Okay."

"I have to go." He says softly as he picks up his bags, "Get some sleep, you have to be up early tomorrow." That's the last thing he says to her before he walks out the door.

It feels so much like Paris she can hardly breathe.

* * *

 _-Present-_

Narcisse was kind enough to give Francis a few days off of work after returning home from the hospital to make sure he was feeling one hundred percent again. She doesn't know if Lola had any influence over that decision or not, Francis certainly thought she did, but Mary appreciated it. It gives them time to unwind and spend time together, so she can't really complain. She doesn't expect to come home to the house looking like a tornado went through it.

"What...have you done?" Mary asks as she kicks the door closed and squints at him. There are pillows everywhere, even a few from their bed just strewn about the living room. He gives her an innocent smile, one that Anne mirrors as she hugs a pillow that's almost bigger than her to her chest.

"Hello." He smiles at her and she makes a face.

"Hi. Didn't answer my question." She says as she folds her arms over her chest, looking around the room, she finds new things as her eyes scan the room. One of the pillows broke open and there are feathers all over the floor and the couch, in Anne's hair.

"She started it." He tells her as he reaches over to pluck a few from his child's hair, who just wedges herself further into his side. Mary makes another face and just decides to carry the groceries to the kitchen, only to come back and be met with a pillow to her knee.

"Nice shot, Anne!" Francis' encouraging shout is met with a soft giggle and Mary's hit with another one, this time higher and harder than the last one and her fingers close around it, a scowl firmly in place, ready to scold. She should be mad, she should demand that he clean it up but she can't do it. Not with him standing there looking pleased with himself, feathers clinging to his clothes and his hair and she didn't even know they _had_ feather pillows.

"Francis."

"Yes?"

"You're cleaning this up."

"Understood." He smirks, "Right now?"

"No." She smiles and it's her turn to hurl a pillow at him, it hits him square in the chest and he gapes at her Anne just laughs as she climbs down from the couch, arming herself with a smaller pillow and then it's on.

It's not really a pillow fight, it's more like a war and it's two against one, which isn't fair in the slightest. It ends in Mary on the floor though, pinned by Francis, being slowly tickled to death by two _heathens_.

"Stop it, stop it!" She shrieks between loud giggles but her pleas are unheard as they both continue to torture her.

"What? Keep going?"

"NO!"

"Anne, get her feet."

"Anne, no!" Mary shrieks, she has to focus really hard on not kicking her own child, but if this keeps going she's going to hurt someone, probably Francis. Definitely Francis. Anne doesn't listen, she goes for her feet despite how much her mother is trying to prevent it by twisting and curling. "I yield, okay, you wiiiinnn!" Francis only pauses long enough to lean down and kiss her cheek and then he's grabbing Anne to get her to stop. She has to stay on the floor even after he lets Mary go because she needs to catch her breath and wipe the tears off her face and then she's sitting up and surveying the damage.

"Look at my house." She pouts, it's worse than when she walked in, the couch is even moved a bit, along with the coffee table and she doesn't know how something didn't break during.

"I'll get it," Francis tells her once the giggling has died down and he's holding Anne, her head resting on his shoulder, pretty blue eyes barely open at this point. "I think we tired someone out." He whispers loudly and Mary laughs as she stands, running her fingers through Anne's curls.

"I can put her to bed." She says softly, reaching to take her away but Anne holds onto him too tight, not budging an inch. She hasn't left him alone since he got home from the hospital a few days ago, even stayed in bed with them, crying out if he tried to put her back in her crib.

"I'll do it." He smiles and she doesn't protest as he moves towards the stairs and she gets to work cleaning their destroyed living room.

 _-/-_

"Your head doesn't hurt, does it?" She asks once the rooms are cleaned and the feathers, which she'll no doubt find laying around in random places for years, are swept up.

"No." He says, sighing as he turns over in her lap to look up at her, she's been combing her fingers through his hair in silence for a few minutes, his head resting in her lap.

"Promise?"

"I promise." He says softly as he grabs her hand to stop it and presses a kiss to the back of it.

"Okay."

"Hey."

"What?"

"We're alone." He smirks at her and she nods because they are. It's the first time in a little while they've been alone together. Friends and relatives stopping in every now and again to check on him. She doesn't mind, they were worried, between them and Anne though; it was really difficult to be alone with him.

"Yeah. I think we are." She says softly, smirking back and she barely has time to react before he's getting up and pulling her up the stairs and then using her back to close their bedroom door. He brushes her hair out of her face, "You almost died." She whispers that.

"But I didn't." He whispers back, "I'm still here." His lips aren't far from hers now so she surges forward to catch them and it's slow but deep as he unbuttons her shirt, the fabric barely grazing her shoulders on the way down. The speed picks up more after that and before she knows it, he has her on the bed, lips exploring every piece of newly exposed skin. Just when he's about to unbutton her jeans, however, they both pause what they're doing at the sound of a soft cry coming from Anne's room and then a thud signaling that she has successfully climbed out of her crib and is headed straight for them.

"To be continued." He says softly, smiling despite the slight irritation in his voice as he presses a soft kiss to the tip of her nose and climbs off of her.

She uses the time that he's gone to change into one of his shirts and a pair of leggings and then she lies back down to wait. She's asleep by the time he comes back and judging by the small body pressed to her back he didn't get Anne to sleep in her own bed tonight.

It's a habit they really can't break, Anne's insistence to sleep with them and Francis' inability to say no to her.

"Maaary." She stirs when he gently pokes her but she doesn't wake up, "Hey." He says softly, gently pulling the blanket back and then pulling her up.

" _Wwwhhhaaattt?_ " She groans as she rubs at her eyes, they crack open, the sun burning them. "What's wrong?" She asks immediately, grabbing hold of him to check if he's warm but he isn't, he's a relatively normal temperature and his skin doesn't burn under her fingers.

"Nothing." He whispers as he puts a finger to his lips, eyes gesturing to the still sleeping form in their bed, "Quiet."

"What time is it?"

"Six."

"Why are you waking me at six on a weekend?" She whispers, still sleepy as she yawns and he doesn't say anything as he pulls her up and tugs her down the stairs.

"No reason." He tells her when they're safe in the kitchen and he pours her a cup of coffee. Coffee for her, tea for him. "Just wanted a few hours alone with you, is that too much to ask?"

"Couldn't have waited until like...eight?" She asks and he rolls his eyes.

"Well, if you want to go back to bed, I won't stop yo-" Apparently he didn't grasp that she was kidding so she sets her cup down on the counter and just kisses him.

They end up on the couch, the tv serving as background noise, her legs stretched in his lap. They're just enjoying the quiet, they don't get it that often. The headline in the news is something about France and the civil unrest there and that has his attention.

"Did that ever happen while you were living there?" She asks.

"Not to this degree." He tells her, referring to the climbing amount of violence taking place among protesters. He's quiet for a little while, just watching the tv until he eventually turns it off.

"We're okay, right?" She asks it suddenly after a few beats of silence and he pauses his toying with a thread from her leggings to look at her.

"Yes?"

"Just making sure." She says with a soft sigh, "We never really-"  
"We can right now."

"I don't want to fight."

"I don't either." He says softly, nudging her legs gently so she can move them and when she does, he scoots closer.

"Where do you want to start?" She asks, "Lou-"

"No." He says that quickly, "I think we've discussed him enough." They have, and he's gone. She hasn't seen or heard from him since he and Francis fought and she deleted his number a long time ago. Maybe he's on his way home to his brother, maybe to her cousin in London. She really doesn't care where he goes at this point.

"Did...do you think it was my fault?" She asks softly and he doesn't have to ask what she's referring to, the baby they lost, how all of this seemed to start. Her stupid, stupid decision after.

"No. I never did." He says softly, sadly, "I don't know why I said that I was just angry and I didn't understand why you didn't talk to me about it. Why you said yes and then changed your mind."  
"It's not that I didn't want to." She sighs, "I didn't want to disappoint you. I was so sure it would happen again and I didn't want to upset you if it did and then I didn't want to tell you I changed my mind because I didn't want to disappoint you more than I already ha-"

"You didn't disappoint me." Francis moves to look at her more directly, "Things like that happen, there's no way to prevent it and I'm incredibly sorry if I made you feel like you let me down. I will say this though, maybe don't take pills behind my back instead of talking to me."

"I'm sorry…"

"I know."

"The thought of not being able to give you what you want-"  
"Mary, you're what I want. More than anything." He says that so sincerely it sends metaphorical butterflies to her stomach and spreads throughout her whole body and she smiles at him. She doesn't know who moved first, maybe it was her, maybe it was him, but one's lips are on the others and she's clinging to him as he eases her down on the couch. His kisses are soft as they trail up and down her neck and she tries to pull his shirt off. She stops when he pulls away suddenly.

"It's awake." He tells her softly in her ear and she wonders how he even _heard_ Anne. She turns her head to see Anne isn't upstairs, she's on her way down. Good thing he saw her, that could have been really awkward but he smiles at her as he moves away from Mary and she sits back up.

"To be continued." She says softly, watching him walk over and scoop up Anne with a smirk.

* * *

A/N: This wasn't supposed to take so long but my dumb ass deleted my notes and I had to try and remember what I originally wrote. Anyways, so that's it. I hope you enjoyed this series, it was pretty fun to write. I was really worried a sequel to _Back To You_ wasn't going to be any good, I've never done sequels before and _Back To You_ remains one of my favorite stories I've written. I was worried there wasn't a way to top it, but I am pretty happy with how this came out and I hope you guys are too. I don't have any more ideas for Frary stories at the moment but I know I'm not done with them yet. Thanks so much for reading. :)


	12. Chapter 12: Epilogue

The tv serves as background noise with the occasional sprinkle of rain hitting the roof, her hands are in his hair, his are wherever they can go. They're a tangled heap of limbs on the couch and maybe they should move, but she's too distracted to suggest it.

His fingers go under her shirt and climb the ladder of her ribcage and the suggestion is forgotten on her lips as he wedges his thigh between her own. A noise makes her jump and it breaks the lingering kisses.

"I heard something." She whispers, he's barely a breath away but he just smirks and goes to her neck, "Francis-"

"There's a storm on the way, it was probably just that." She shifts under him, "Anne's asleep, my love, relax."

"I-"  
" _Relax_." He whispers against the skin of her throat as he presses warm kisses to it, and then his mouth is climbing back to hers. Maybe he's right, it was probably just the wind. She lets herself relax, but as his kisses begin to heat up, and his touches make her sigh, they both hear it this time.

The clearing of a throat that didn't belong to either one of them.

" _Catherine!?_ " It's a shriek as she jumps, shoving Francis off of her with too much force and he crashes to the floor before he can even process what is happening.

"The couch, really?" She asks with a quirk of her brow.

"Ow." Francis says from the floor, sitting up, "Anyone ever heard of knocking?"

"I did knock," Catherine says. That was the noise Mary heard, how long was the woman standing there? She gives a dismissive wave, "Mary didn't come to work today or yesterday, I thought she may be sick." Her eyes go to Mary, "Are we feeling _better_?" She asks with fake enthusiasm and Mary's blush deepens.

"I'm fine…" She says, sitting up and Catherine's eyes go to her chest.

"Your shirt, darling." She says dryly, turning her head as Mary looks down to see it's unbuttoned and her face reddens even more if that were possible. She grabs a pillow and presses it to her chest when the logical thing to do would be to just button it up.

"Anne hasn't been feeling well, mom," Francis says, the poor thing hasn't moved from the floor. Catherine's face changes and before they know it she's heading for the stairs. "No, I just got her to sleep." Francis protests from his place on the floor.

"I'll only be a minute."

"No, really it-" his protest dies on his lips as he realizes he's fighting a losing battle and they watch as his mother climbs the stairs anyway.

"Told you I heard something."

"She's seen worse." He says as he gets up and flopped down next to her on the couch, he reaches. She makes a face.

"She's literally upstairs."

"The remote is behind you, get your head out of the gutter," Francis says but he smirks and she twists to grab it, pretty much throws it at him. They sit there in awkward silence, watching whatever's on the screen at the time. Mary's pretty sure her face is still red, pillow still pressed to her chest. It's a few minutes before Catherine comes back down the stairs, this time with a bag and Anne on her hip.

"I'm taking this." She tells them.

"But she's s-"

"Francis, I raised seven of you, I think I can handle this one." She says sweetly, giving Anne a soft kiss on the cheek but the loving look for her granddaughter changes when she looks back at them. "The couch, _honestly_." She sighs, "Anyways, Mary, bright and early tomorrow morning, yes?"

"Yup," Mary says softly.

"Good." Catherine smiles as she adjusts the strap over her shoulder, "Well then, as you were." She gives another dismissive wave of her hand and then she and Anne are gone. It's pretty quiet after that and Francis runs a hand over his face.

"We need to remember to lock that." He says on a sigh. It's not the worst she's seen, she had the unfortunate incident of finding them in Mary's office a couple of years ago in a...compromising position. She never really heard the end of that.

"How long before she realizes Anne isn't actually sick?"

"Not long." He smirks, "But I don't think she noticed anything." He says softly as his fingers find her stomach.

"We're going to have to tell her."

"Whenever you're ready."

Turns out she doesn't have to tell her, Catherine figures it out after Mary bolts out of a meeting and catches her in the bathroom spewing her lunch.

 _-/-_

"Mary, are you okay?" If this man knocks on the door one more time she might actually punch him in the face. "Are the pills not working?"  
"Does it _sound_ like the pills are working, Francis!?" She snaps, head resting on the toilet seat as she just begs her body to be done with it. One more knock and a loud groan from her later, she's back to projecting whatever's left in her stomach.

"Let me in."

"No."

"I can help."

"Can you make it stop?" She asks

"...No."

"Then you can't help!" She shouts and he's silent but she knows he's still there, she can see the shadows of his feet under the door. "I can't do this, I can't go."

"Mary, you have to go." He says, "It's Lola's wedding-"  
"Lola would understand."

"Lola doesn't know you're-"  
"Fraaannccciiisss." The last bit of his name is stretched until it's not even a word anymore, it's just a long, high pitched, sound spilling out of her lips.

"You'll regret it if you don't go." He says softly and he's right, she would. She'd feel terrible for not going to her closest friends wedding. Even if Lola understood why.

"My dress doesn't fit." She whines, "It's too tight, everyone will know."

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Francis." She whines again and the knob twists, but it's locked so he can't get in.

"Please unlock the door…" He says softly, she sighs as she crawls over to the door, twists the lock and then goes back to her original position, hugging the toilet bowl like it's the only good thing in her life. She must be a sight to behold, wrapped in a towel, body soaked from either the shower she had to abruptly end, or sweat she really doesn't know at this point. Her dark hair sticks to her face. Francis lets out a sigh as he kneels beside her and brushes a few wet strands behind her ear.

"I look gross." She groans and he just gives her a tiny smile, looking at her fondly.

"You're beautiful." He says softly, fingers running down her back, "Honey, why don't we just tell people?"

"No." She groans again with a hard shake of her head.

"Why?"

"I can't announce a pregnancy on my friends' wedding day."

"M-"

"It's against the rules."

"What rules?"

"It's rude." She frowns, "Today is Lola's day. I'll tell them after…"

"Any longer and you won't have to." He tells her and she rolls her eyes. She's showing a lot quicker than she did with Anne. There's already the slightest hint of a bump. "Are you done?"

"No." She barely gets the no out before more bile starts to rise up the back of her throat, he just rubs her back while she empties the entirety of her stomach into the toilet. "Make it stop." She cries softly.

"Only a few more weeks, babe." He presses a soft kiss to her shoulder before he stands up, he needs to go get Anne ready and himself. They're going to be late to this freaking wedding.

He comes back after a little while to find her sitting on the edge of the tub, still wrapped in her towel, staring at her dress like she wants to rip it to shreds.

"You're not ready!?"

"It doesn't fit…"

"Have you tried it on?"

"No." She doesn't need to, she already knows, it's not going to fit. Francis lets out another exasperated sigh as he closes the door and pulls her up.

"Between you and Anne, getting ready for this wedding is exhausting."

She was right, the zipper almost breaks and it doesn't make it past the middle of her back. Francis runs a hand through his hair.  
"I told you." He doesn't say anything, he seems to be deep in thought and then he's pulling out his phone. "Who are you calling?"

"My sister."  
"Which one?" She asks. Leeza shows up in less than ten minutes with a dress for her, one that fits.

-/-

"This is the second wedding I've been to, _pregnant_." She makes a face, "The first one being my own." She's speaking in a hushed voice, using Anne to cover her stomach. Francis makes a face, but she can tell he's trying not to laugh at her complaints. He kisses her cheek and she pouts when a caterer offers champaign and she can't have any.

"Come sit," Francis says softly as he pulls a chair out for her and she sits down at the table farthest away from other people. "I'll get you something to eat." He presses a kiss to the top of her head and she loosens her grip on Anne. The girl bolts across the room to Rose, who becomes just as excited to see her.

"Keep an eye on her."

"She'll be alright." Francis hums as he brushes her hair back and then she's alone, Francis disappearing into the crowd to find the buffet table. She sighs as she runs her hand over her stomach and leans back in her chair, watching Anne and Rose weave their way through people. She gets up after a few minutes, Catherine coming up beside her and linking their arms together.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" She asks, "Have you eaten? Are you queasy?"

"Francis went in search of food but I think he got lost."

"Hm." Catherine hums as she starts to walk with her, "Are you tired? How about we sit-"  
"I've been sitting all day."

"Well, in your condition, you should be resting as much as possible." She pats her stomach and Mary sighs again. Where the hell did Francis go? She scans the room for him but she doesn't see him.

"Catherine, I feel fine…" She says softly as she's shoved in a chair at a different table this time, frowning as this officially becomes the worst wedding she's ever been to. She just wants to walk, maybe actually talk to her newly married friend, maybe dance _a little._ Is that too much to ask?

"Hush dear, let me fret over you." She smiles a tiny smile as her hands goes to Mary's stomach, God she's worse than Francis. "Oh, I'm hoping for a boy." Catherine smiles wide, it makes Mary smile too. She wouldn't mind having a boy, though another girl wouldn't be terrible either. Catherine eventually leaves her to talk to Narcisse, who's glowing, by the way, Mary's pretty sure she's never seen that man smile before.

"Where have you been?" She asks when Francis sneaks up behind her, hands on her shoulders, lips on her cheek.

"Slow dancing with Bash." Oh, she wishes she had seen that. The mental image is enough to make her laugh.

"How did that happen?"

"Ask Kenna." He smirks and then he's coming around to stand in front of her, hand extended.

"No-"  
"Yes."

"Francis-"  
"I want to dance with you." He pouts and it's cute, but where was he twenty minutes ago when she wasn't tired? "Come on." She sighs and lets him take her hand to tug her out to the dancefloor where other couples have gathered as well. She rests her chin on his shoulder while they sway to the soft, slow, music the band is playing.

"Do you think it's a boy?" She asks him softly and he shrugs. "Your mom thinks it's a boy."

"My mom thought Anne was a boy." He tells her pulling back to look at her, "It doesn't matter to me what it is." She knows that, but they have a girl already and she's sure he'd like a boy at some point. He lifts their hands and spins her before pulling her back to him.

"You look beautiful." He says softly, looking at her the way he always did like he was in constant awe of her. She toys with the fabric of his suit jacket, meeting his eyes only makes the warm feeling in her stomach worse.  
"Wanna disappear for a little bit?" She whispers in his ear, Anne is busy with Bash and Rose and everyone else is talking or dancing. He quirks a brow at her but allows her to take his hand and tug him out of the main ballroom.

The wedding is taking place in the venue Catherine wanted to be built. It's the first event being held here since it was completed a little over a month ago, what better way to test it out than with a lovely wedding?

"Where are you taking me?" He asks and she just smiles as she pushes open a door and they walk through the empty room to a bathroom on the other end. It's not completely finished yet, one wall isn't even painted, but the fluorescent light flicks on when they enter and the door has a lock. She doubts anyone will find them in here though, but she locks it just in case. He's giving her a look, tilting his head at her as she walks over to the counter and bites her lip.

"What's gotten into you?" He asks but his questions are gone when she starts lifting her skirt. His lips are on hers after that, all tongue and teeth and _want_ as he pushes her up on the counter, careful not to accidentally shove her in the sink and his hands lift the fabric of her skirt up more, skin hot on her thighs while her legs wrap around his waist.

If anything is for certain, this pregnancy has made her more wanton, she'd be embarrassed if she wasn't so consumed by need.

She breaks the kiss, foreheads pressed to each other, both breathing heavily as her hands untuck his shirt and go to his belt impatiently. He stops her, which earns him a soft whimper.

"Slow down, slow down." He says softly, pressing his lips to hers again, this time it's less needy and more loving and she tugs on his curls, grinds on him unashamedly until he reaches up her skirt and yanks her underwear down.

"You're very impatient, you know that?" He smirks.

"Shut up, you love it." She says quickly, pulling him back down to her mouth and cutting off his laugh. He doesn't stop her this time when her hands go to his belt, everything happens faster after that. She keeps her face buried in his neck while they move together, muffling the noises she's making even though she knows they're too far away from the main room to be heard. Her wrist hurts from her palm being pressed flatly against the wall to keep herself up and so do her knuckles, she has to check his jacket for tears because she was gripping it so tightly.

"Do I look-"

"Ravished?" He gives her a sly smirk and she rolls her eyes, "You look fine." He laughs as he comes up behind her, running his fingers through her hair to get some of the tangles out. When he's done with that, he circles his arms around her waist and rests his chin on top of her head as she examines herself in the mirror.

"People will be wondering where we went." She says as she adjusts her skirt. At least her face isn't red now, and the sweat has cooled off both of them. She doesn't know how long they've been in here but she's guessing maybe too long.

"They can wonder," He smiles as she spins her around to face him and her arms go around his neck as he kisses her gently. It lingers, eventually deepens, and she wants to; but her stomach growls.  
"Food." She breathes as she pulls back and he laughs as his hand finds her stomach.

"How silly of me, I almost forgot to feed you." He kisses her forehead and tugs open the door.

-/-

He shouldn't have fed her, or she shouldn't have eaten, as she watches him twirl Anne and Rose around on the dance floor, her stomach complains and she pretty much bolts out of the room. She's in a different bathroom now, doing something a lot less _fun_.

"Mary?" It's Lola, oh no. "Mary?" She sounds worried as she pushes the stall open to find her friend on the floor with her head in the toilet, gripping the bowl.

"It's something I ate." She chokes, "I'm okay."

"Do you want me to find Francis?"  
"No, I'm okay." She says softly, words clipping on another gag and a heave. Just a few more weeks of this and then it'll be bliss and she won't be puking every twenty minutes. Lola waits until she's finished and then she balls up some napkins to press to her mouth, a soothing hand on her back as Mary washes her hands.

"It's not something you ate, is it?" She asks softly and well, her secret is out. She glances at her and Lola shrugs, "Just noticed you've been disappearing a lot…"

"No...it's not." She says slowly and Lola's mouth stretches into a smile.

"Why didn't you tell me!" She says excitedly and Mary shrugs.

"I didn't want to tell anyone, not today at least, it's a special day for you."

"Mary, this only made my day more special." She says with a wide smile and then she pulls her in for a tight embrace and Mary returns it just as tight. "I'm so happy for you!" Lola links her arm with Marys as they walk out, being careful not to step on her pretty white dress as they walk.

"Don't tell anyone." She says as they walk.

"Don't tell anyone what?" Kenna asks from behind them. It spreads like wildfire after that and soon enough more and more people know, but it doesn't dampen Lola's mood in the slightest. People keep coming up to her to congratulate her and then Francis is walking over with a look on his face.

"Thought we weren't telling anyone." He teases and she rolls her eyes, but she's relieved that most people know now.

* * *

It's a boy. Claude made her boyfriend bake a cake with blue frosting in the middle and they let Anne cut it. She didn't understand why everyone was happily yelling, honestly, she was more concerned with the cake than anything else. Catherine gives them an "I told you so" and Bash makes a comment about not delivering this one and after the party is over and Anne is asleep, she rests her head in Francis' lap on the couch.

"Tired?" He asks as he scoops of a bit of cake in her mouth and she nods. She's at the point where she's tired all the time, but at least she isn't throwing up as much. He rests his hand on her stomach, which is bigger now and if they're patient, they can feel him move.

"It's a boy." She says softly, sleepily.

"Yeah."

"Do you think Anne will like him?"  
"Mary, I think she's more excited than I am." He's right. Anne is always touching her stomach and asking when the baby will be here, she doesn't think Anne realizes once he's here he won't be able to play right away. Being more excited than Francis is still a huge statement and she smiles as she shifts to get comfier.

"I feel like I've been pregnant forever." She pouts.

"Wait till the third trimester."

"Francis."

"Hm?"

"We don't have anything…"

"We'll get it, don't worry." He says softly, running his fingers through her hair the way she likes and she doesn't know what happens after that. She falls asleep.

-/-

He got to be there the whole time, he got to hold her hand, and rub her back, and whisper encouraging words to her. She got to insult him as much as she wanted because she was in pain and he's the one who got her pregnant.

Now she gets to watch him pace with a small bundle of blankets hiding a baby somewhere in there. He hasn't looked up from him the whole time, just smiling.

"Is he okay?" She asks softly, still tired.

"He's perfect, Mary." He looks up as she reaches and crosses the room to her, sitting on the edge of the bed and she pulls the blanket back, resting her chin on his shoulder. He has dark hair like Mary's and thick lashes. She hopes it doesn't turn blonde, she'd really like it if one of her kids looked like her.

"Does he look too pale to you?" She asks softly.

"That's just the lights."

"Are you sure?"

"He passed all the tests, Mary, he's fine." Francis smiles, "You worry too much."

"We still need to build the crib."

"It'll get done." He tells her, and then he turns to her, passing the baby off as his phone rings. It's probably Catherine, she's probably dying to come and visit. "I'll be right back." He says as he kisses her quickly and then he's answering the phone.

She gets a few minutes alone with him now, to look at his little face and hold him before Francis steals him again. That man and babies, she doesn't know what it is.

Mary smiles as she runs her finger over his soft cheeks and his little nose. He's sleeping, pretty sure he came out sleeping, she doesn't think he's woken up once. She wonders if his eyes will stay blue or if they'll eventually turn a dark brown like hers. She loves him so much already, it almost hurts.

"What should we call you?" She whispers, "Probably should have thought of that before we got here, hm?"

"We came pretty unprepared," Francis says, she didn't even know he came back, but he's walking back over to the bed, getting in next to her. Like he did with Anne.

"More unprepared than we were with Anne."

"Yeah, I still don't know how we managed that." He says softly, "What do you want to name him?"

"I was thinking James."

"After your brother?" He asks, "Mary he _punched_ you in the face."

"Okay, first of all, James was my fathers' name, second, it was an _accident_." He makes a face.

"You say that like it changes the fact, he still did it."

"Francis."

"Hm?"

"What do you have against my brother?"

"He. Punched. You." He says slowly, " _In the face._ "

"That was years ago!"

"Still happened." He says, "My pretty, gorgeous Mary, there's even a scar." His finger runs over it tenderly and she rolls her eyes.

"We're naming him James."

"Fine but don't tell your brother, we can't stroke his ego more."

"Are we not supposed to tell him his nephews' name?" Mary asks, "Besides it's after my father. Not my brother." She says as though that changes it. Francis sighs as he puts an arm around her.

"Fine, his name is James."

"James Henry." She adds softly and he blinks.

"Henry James."

"Francis-"  
"Are we going to have to flip a coin?" He asks and she rolls her eyes for what feels like the billionth time. She shakes her head.

"I like my way better."

"Well, I like my way better."

They get in a twenty-minute argument after that, over which way is better before finally settling on Mary's pick. Only because she went through hours of labor without the aid of drugs and Francis couldn't argue against that.

"I have a third suggestion."

"Francis, no."

"Fine." He smirks, "His name is James, you win. I yield." He says dramatically and she laughs as she rests her head on his shoulder. "Okay but the next one-"

"The _what now_?"

"The next one."

"No."

"Please?"

"Francis, can I heal first?"

"I seem to recall a conversation on the phone a few years ago, you agreed three and a puppy."

"No, I said two and a puppy."

"Okay then let's get a puppy." He concedes and she makes a face.

"Not right now?" She says and he smirks, "We just had a baby and you want to throw a puppy in the mix?"

"I'm just collecting what was promised to me."

"Francis, no."  
"Francis, yes." She laughs at his antics, she knows he's joking but part of her thinks he isn't. She swears if she comes home to a freaking puppy on top of a newborn, she might actually skin him. Maybe Anne would like a pet of her own, Mary never got that, but can they start with a goldfish? Francis is busy running his thumb over James' tiny knuckles to pay her any mind.

"I waited as long as I could." It's Catherine, standing in the doorway and both their heads snap up. She has Anne with her, who is bouncing up and down excitedly. "Gimme." Catherine reaches and Mary hands the baby over reluctantly.

Francis is quick, scooping up Anne before she can propel herself into Mary. "No, don't jump on her, she's very sore." He says as he presses a kiss to her cheek. She watches as Francis sits next to Anne on one of the big leather couches and Catherine explains how to hold him to the little girl. He looks a lot bigger in Anne's tiny arms as she giggles as smiles and talks to him. Francis brushes Anne's hair back, a hand resting under James' head to keep it upright.

Mary's pretty sure she's never felt this happy in her entire life and she's not sure if there's anything in the world that could ever top this feeling.

* * *

A/N: I forgot to post the epilogue. Surprise!


End file.
